Wake the Ashes
by Stilwater Rundeepo
Summary: Sequel to "Space Bound." The year is 10 BBY. Cad Bane lives in seclusion on Tatooine; Boba Fett seeks employment under the Galactic Empire; Embo's past comes back to haunt him. Call for Rebellion is growing, and it will come to touch everyone in its path. The cause is worthy—the price, unimaginable. A story of restless hearts, war, redemption, and great sacrifice.
1. Ashes

_Author's Note:_

_To everyone who waited: __alas, your wait is over. _It's FINALLY HERE!_ In all seriousness, y_ou guys are the reason my first fanfiction ever took a step past "chapter 1." I was so nervous about publishing it because I thought no one would pay notice much less read any of it...and now, I've met tons of awesome people and made fantastic friendships since then. Your encouragement and support has been more than I ever could have hoped for. Thanks for all your love and kind words and the great things you've given me over the years. This story is written for you. I love you all SO MUCH!

_To everyone who is new to this story: "Wake the Ashes" is a sequel to a previous fanfic I wrote titled "Space Bound," which followed various bounty hunters but mainly Cad Bane during the last days of the Republic and the fall of the Jedi Order. I finished it in March '13, had to take a break from Star Wars fanfiction for a while, but now I'm back with a continuation of the story._

_This fanfiction is going to be set almost entirely from 18 BBY to 9 BBY. The main cast features Cad Bane, Boba Fett, Embo, and various canon characters and OC's. Expect themes such as the Empire's humanocentric speciesism, the early stages of the Rebellion, and a lot of character backstories intertwining together._

_Just a safe disclaimer: if you have read some of my earlier fanfiction, you already know what to expect. If you haven't, I'll warn that they can become very serious, dark, and mature at times, and "Wake the Ashes" will be no exception. In "Space Bound" I went very far with how I decided to write the characters. Now I'm taking everything to the next level up. You'll understand what that means in time._

___Although Disney/Lucasfilm recently released a "new" form of the Star Wars timeline, apparently, I'm still sticking to the classic "BBY-ABY" that everyone is familiar with, just to avoid confusion._

_Feedback/comments/questions/praise/critique in the form of reviews are highly appreciated and welcome._

_"Wake the Ashes" is rated M for strong violence/gore and intense situations, mature themes, and Terran profanity._

* * *

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter One: Ashes_

* * *

"_Takira, tell me how to love_

_Takira, show me how to bloom_

_Somehow you rose from ashes_

_Will you let me rise with you"_

_-the Takira song_

* * *

"_Peace!_

_After a perilous three years that swept the galaxy into a bloody civil war, the Republic, in all its glory and splendor, at last put an end to the violence. All conflict has been resolved, and justice has been restored._

_Now everyone may enjoy their lives in happiness, prosperity, and security, under the new Galactic Empire!_

_The betrayal and attempted uprising of the Jedi Order was put to an end by the Emperor. Now we are stronger than ever—dedicated to the safety and well-being of each and every citizen. The old form is done away with. All things are new, and all things are well._

_The Empire is one thousand times stronger than the old Republic. With the support, gratitude, and cooperation from all citizens, we will remain strong and at peace for a thousand generations to come._

_Let everyone trust the Empire to protect them, keep them secure, and allow each citizen to live according to the law so conflict will never rise up again. Let the Empire decide what is right for each and every citizen so we may remain in harmony with each other. Let the master and most supreme of all galactic species, the Humans, bless us with their higher intellect, rationale, and goodness, so the non-Humans may learn to follow their ways and become better species themselves._

_The Empire will never fail us. The Empire will never fall._

_There are those who speak of yet another civil war. Do not listen to them. Do not let them sacrifice your children to a nonexistent cause. Do not let them warp your mind into believing the Empire will threaten you and your family. These are all lies fed to you by those who only desire more bloodshed and chaos._

_Instead, embrace the truth that the galaxy is more secure and prosperous than it has ever been before. Remain strong through your Empire, follow the ways of the master Human species, and listen to your superiors. Do these things, and all will be at peace._

_Long live the Emperor!"_

* * *

_18 BBY – 1 year after the birth of the Galactic Empire_

_Outer Rim, Tatooine system – approximately 1200 miles from Bestine_

.

"Goodnight, Tee," he said.

He gently tucked the blanket under her chin. Then he pulled the drapes closed so the sunlight would not hit her when she awoke.

As he stood over her, his body froze for several seconds. Just so he could look down and ponder what she might be dreaming about, as she soundly slept with the faintest trace of a smile. The trouble was, he could not really think of anything she may have been dreaming about, save a memory or two they shared.

Judging by the state of her blankets, pillows, and the small pile of dishes he found at the foot of her bed, the butler droid had not done as decent a job as it supposedly had been programmed for. Nevertheless, when he came home to find her that night, it was clear that Tee had been well-fed, finished her holobook, and went to bed at an early hour. And these were all good signs, because he still did not fully know how to work on those droids all on his own with nothing but raw tools.

The night was late and dawn would be striking the lonely desert with light before the end of the next hour. Cad Bane, who had not slept for three standard days in a row, made his way through the darkness of the room. Tee's bed was behind a curtain, which blocked the view of her growing collection of, what Tee liked to call, _trinkets_. Bane thought the term _useless small pieces of garbage and debris _was more appropriate, but he kept that to himself. On the other side of the room, a large bay window looked out to the desolate land beyond and surrounding. There were two chairs, a dejarik table, a caf pot, and a medical droid that was still not done being built. A wooden floor sagged in the middle. The only light was from the glowing, flashing controls and buttons against the wall, which servedthe third-level security system Bane had installed over one year ago.

Bane opened the door to his own room and stumbled inside. An unmade bed had never looked so warm and welcoming. He rubbed his eyes, using caution on his left so not to inflict a sting in it. With the last of his energy, and not even knowing if he was truly doing it or not, Bane pulled off his duster and let it fall on the floor. It was enough of a comfort. He did not even bother to dismantle anything else before he fell down on the bed, landing on his back. He let out a long sigh, marinated with exhaustion and topped with the remnants of a previous pain-killing medicine.

And he felt very tired and very out of place. It had been a year, but he still couldn't get his head around it...that every time he returned home he had a little girl to watch over and make sure she was all right, and then the next morning he would have to take on the role of every adult figure who should have been there for her a long time ago but never showed up. So whatever happened to them all, from the loving parents to the schoolteachers to crazy uncles and cousins, whether of not they were of the living, they could go fuck themselves.

Before he let himself go to sleep, Bane stretched one hand out into the darkness toward the shelf on the wall, rummaging around without so much as bothering to lift his head and save himself the trouble. When he finally found what he was looking for, he pulled down his medical kit. He opened it up and the hololight on the underside of the lid illuminated the medicines and bandages. He grabbed a bacta patch and put it on the side of his head.

What was Tee smiling about in her sleep, he still wondered. She could be dreaming about that infant anooba she saw in town two weeks ago. Bane, who knew that keeping Tee indoors constantly would stunt her physical and mental growth, opted to allow her on a trip with him to the nearest town every so often. Not that it was much of a town anyway—just a place for the local farmers to get drunk and load up on supplies. It served very few other purposes. The traveling merchant had been selling exotic pets, and when Tee laid eyes on the small creature with its brothers and sisters in the cage, she yanked on the sleeve of Bane's duster. He had been used to the gesture by then, and he had not been startled. Bane had just shaken his head and waited until they were alone when he could explain in full why it was an absolutely ridiculous idea that they should get a pet. Once he had listed off the top five, he let it settle at that. Still, Tee told him that once she was old enough she would save up enough credits to buy one anyway. More head shaking on his part.

Or in her sleep, she could be humming a song. Particular, _the _song.

Tee insisted it was _her _song, but it wasn't. Bane remembered. The first time he sang it to her was not even a week after_ that day_. The day they first met, where they were surrounded by ashes as rain poured down to wash it all away, and she had covered her head with the poncho Embo gave her. That poncho was the curtain shielding her bed right now.

* * *

_19 BBY – one year ago_

_._

_Few words were spoken between the three of them—Embo, Bane, and the little green Twi'lek girl. Ryloth was frightfully silent, the only sound being the small patter of rain onto the ashes and the surface of Embo's ship. The graveyard was gray and it was quiet and no one spoke a word. Whether lack of words was out of respect, numbness, or timidity was up to the individuals._

_Once they were in his ship, Embo took them to the nearest medic bay, according to him, for two reasons. First, he did not have enough proper supplies to treat Bane, and did not feel he would have fulfilled his end of the bargain until he knew Bane could walk away on his own. Second, Embo wanted to be certain the little girl was not suffering from illnesses or internal injuries of any sort._

_Fortunately, Embo's precautions regarding Tee returned negative. The once retired doctor named Ihtak, still hiding away on his small moon, welcomed them in at a price Bane insisted on paying. Tee had suffered minor traumatizing over a period of several months, but Ihtak assured he had seen younglings her age recover from far worse. Embo left when and only when he knew that both of them were in good hands and could get on by._

_And so the Kyuzo bounty hunter left quietly without so much as saying goodbye. He forgot his poncho._

_Bane was resting on a mattress in a cold, bright room. He held a cold cloth with soothing disinfectant on the gash over his left eye. His dislocated knee was wrapped in a bag of ice. The little Twi'lek girl, arms crossed beneath her poncho, sat down next to him. A slight startle rippled through him at the touch, and he looked down at her._

_"I just learned something," the little Twi'lek girl said softly._

_"What's that?" he asked a long pause later._

_"I know your name because you told me, but you don't know my name."_

_"Not a good thing?" Bane guessed._

_"No, we're supposed to know everybody's names."_

_"All right...go ahead. What's your name?" He switched hands and leaned his head back against the wall. An image flashed in front of his eyes and his throat began to throb. Two days ago; it had all happened two days ago._

_"My name's Tee."_

_"What's it short for?"_

_"No, just Tee," the girl said, almost in self-defense, and not knowing exactly what he had meant._

_"Well, that's no good. That's got to be short for something."_

_She hugged her knees a little tighter. Bane looked down at her; she was licking her upper lip. Another half a minute passed before either of them spoke again._

_"Like what?"_

_"Anything you want. Doesn't seem fair someone else should pick it for you."_

_Tee did not choose a name at first. Before one standard week had passed, Bane decided they had hung around Ihtak's long enough. So one day Cad Bane took Tee with him to town, where they bought a ship that would take them to his hideout on Tatooine. Because Bane left sooner than he should have, his knee did not heal properly from the dislocation, and by the end of the year he realized he would be walking with a limp, most likely, for the rest of his life._

_The first night in their new home was the hardest. Bane, of course, did not sleep at all. Tee found a corner where she stuffed a few pillows, wrapped herself in her poncho, and closed her eyes. An hour later she woke up screaming._

_"Stop touching me. Stop touching me," was the most frequent sentence Bane could make out between Tee's sobs and whimpers._

_And the fact that as soon as she said those words Bane knew exactly why she was saying them, was what made his stomach tingle with nausea. But most first nights are the hardest, after all._

_To stop Tee from thrashing and scratching her arms open, Bane held her close to him, firmly but gently. When Tee had stopped screaming and settled down to crying softly, she asked him to sing her something. And he sang the first song that came to mind, which was a lullaby written for a particular type of flower that grew on systems like Naboo, Alderaan, and Rodia. The flower was called the Takira flower, and the next morning, Tee woke up and told him that she had decided what her _real name _was going to be._

_And from then on, Tee was the little Takira flower. A bud, bruised but persisting to grow still, and reach for the sun._

* * *

Ever since then, she used the name _Takira _to sign her holobooks and other such assigned reading. So perhaps, tonight, she was hearing that song in her sleep and that was what kept her smiling. Because for over a year, it was the only song she wanted to hear on the nights that were hard.

Bane kicked his boots onto the floor. The medical kit was returned to its place on the shelf. He used his teeth to pull off his gloves, which he tossed next to the boots. Then he finally closed his eyes. He felt that he could sleep for a week. If he were to open his eyes and glance to his left, a rifle would be propped against the wall ready to be drawn, loaded, and aimed at any second's notice. And as Cad Bane mulled over the events spanning the past several days, he also considered the number of living beings that had been killed by that rifle. When he purchased it one year ago, it had only been fired at targets and holo-simulations. Since then, it had taken care of more than its fair share of any creature who had come too close to the premises, such as krayt dragons, wraids, and the occasional rogue Tusken. Bane made a mental note that when he awoke he would investigate the small death trap outside to see if it had caught anything during his absence. If the hypothetical victim was still alive by then, and as long as Tee stayed behind, he could have a bit of fun.

After he took in Tee a year ago and they made a permanent stay at his hideout on Tatooine, the entire game play changed for him. Where once Bane had no problems with journeying from one side of the galaxy to the other for the sake of his work, now a strong barrier had been set in place. It was not as simple as trusting Tee's safety, well-being, and entire life in the hands of a few machines. Even if said machines were as professional and up-to-date as Bane could get them.

For one entire year, he had disappeared from the rest of the galaxy. He cut off all contact with what was happening in the outside world. He made himself invisible to all of his employers, erasing availability to any job offers. No one else knew their whereabouts or about what happened on Ryloth. No one else save for Ihtak and Embo even knew he was alive. For one year the rest of the criminal underworld most likely speculated as to why Bane had suddenly vanished days after the birth of the Galactic Empire...as if any of them really gave a shit. And for one year, Bane killed nothing but the critters and creatures that wandered too close to the house, and his only company was the ten-year-old little Twi'lek girl named Tee.

Who knows why he decided to disappear like that. Maybe there was just something wrong with him and he had lost some of his spine after _that_ day. Maybe everything changed a little too quickly for him to keep up. Maybe pointing a gun at your own head and pulling the trigger, then opening your eyes after you thought you'd never see the light again, did something permanent to your soul, and no matter how you tried you were never going to be the someone you were before.

How did one return to the way things used to be before, after all that had conspired? How did one go back to normal as if everything had not changed? How did one walk away from that without a different perspective?

Whatever it was, it was enough to force him off the scene for that period of time. Now Bane knew for sure. Scum like his kind would have been better off if the Empire wiped them all out in a clean sweep, just like with the Jedi Order. They should have all died the day the Republic died. None of them should have lived past that day, and none of their names should have been remembered a day after. It was all just one big fucking rat race. He knew that, now.

And by the time that year-long break was over, he found that he was quite tired...tired of the bounty tallies. Tired of looking up to who was higher on the ladder so they could be dragged down. Tired of forcing one's self to forget the people were benefiting from your services, the kind of people who should have been castrated and immobilized while they were still younglings. It all made him tired and he had not even realized he was tired until the day he and Tee walked into the hideout deep in the deserts of Tatooine that he had neglected up until then. Not until he spent nearly a fifth of his bank account to install a security system in the hideout, as well as tidy it up to make it more welcoming for a ten-year-old girl. That was when Cad Bane felt tired. Very and inescapably tired.

Bane's bank accounts were still stacked up high from all he had earned during the war. With this he spent double, triple what he normally would have on a security system for the house. That, and letting Tee browse the HoloNet for all the clothing she wanted, which were promptly delivered to a spaceport roughly four-hundred miles away. The rest of the money was saved away as backup for necessary materials. And for a year, this backup supply deteriorated bit by bit, until one day Bane realized he had to return to his old work if he was going to keep food on the table.

But by the time he returned, his agenda, too, had changed. No jobs outside of Tatooine or any surrounding systems. None. No exceptions.

Needless to say, a lot was different from there on out. Running to the nearest repair shop to fix a technological device or speeder that stopped working? Spending credits left and right on new weapons? Developing the same post-war reputation as a galactic freelancer Bane's peers were fond of these days? _All _out of the question.

Times were not so easy anymore, both because of the end of the war and because he would only take work that was not far away from Tee. They were only going to get harder in the years to come, and Bane knew that. For his kind, in their particular predicament, the days ahead looked long and full of drought, struggle, and sweat. The old times of fortune and fame were mere memories, now.

But when he looked at the alternative, the days ahead seemed far brighter.

The alternative? A trust broken, a pair of loose lips...Tee dead in his arms.

That would never, ever happen again. Not with Tee.

There were many things he once thought were true that maybe were not so true anymore, but that much would never change.

This was Bane's final thought before exhaustion overcame a wandering mind, and he fell asleep just as the first ray of daylight was approaching that small, black house and its two living inhabitants.


	2. New Beginning

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Two: New Beginning_

* * *

"_You saw my pain washed out in the rain and broken glass  
Saw the blood run from my veins  
But you saw no fault - no cracks in my heart  
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart"_

_-Mumford and Sons, "Ghosts That We Knew"_

* * *

They had been living on Tatooine for nearly a year, now, and Bane decided it was time to start getting serious about Tee's education. The time for rest and recuperation had to be allowed, sure, but it couldn't last forever. Sooner or later they had to start moving forward again so the rest of the world would become unable to take advantage of their need for rest. He knew going into this that Tee's education would be his sole responsibility, and the longer he put it off, the more difficult it would be. And of course, there would never be a shortage of things she could learn.

It didn't take much thought to figure out that Tee's experience on Ryloth had robbed her of any true learning or education. Other than her birth date and age, which he had acquired by rough estimations courtesy of the medical droid, Bane knew nothing about Tee's story previous to Ryloth. As a result, it was hard to know just how much education she had already acquired or how far behind she was in comparison to other younglings her age. He had to do something about that.

Once Bane had her seated and comfortable in her chair at the table, he handed her a slip of blank paper and a pencil stub.

"Is this going to be fun?" Tee whined.

Bane thought for a minute. Younglings liked to do fun things, so he would win over Tee's cooperation if he told her it would be fun. After all, maybe he _could_ try to weave some fun into it.

"Of course it's going to be fun. I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and have you do a few things on that sheet of paper. Nothing too hard, just simple things. If you can't answer, just tell me...you don't have to make up an answer if you don't have one. Just do what you can. That's all you have to do. Okay, Tee?"

"Okay," she said, not sounding fully convinced this was going to be _fun_.

"Good. All right, now first, write your name on the sheet of paper."

"My full name? Takira Tee Bane?"

"Sure, sure, go ahead."

Even though Takira was supposed to be her _official _first name, she tended to use her nickname Tee as an additional middle name. And naturally, for the most part, Tee said that since she had never had a last name, at least one she still remembered, she wanted to use his instead. For now, Bane had no problems with that.

"'_Little Takira flower_'..." she sang as she began to scribble, echoing a nickname Bane called her on occasion. "Can I write that?"

"Well, that's not your real name. It's just a nickname."

Bane watched as Tee worked hard to write her name in Aurebesh on the paper. Her handwriting was smooth but forced, but at least she knew how to write. That would save them a lot of time. When she finished, Bane had to remind himself to congratulate her so she would be more motivated to keep answering his questions.

"Good work, Tee. Now, can you write the numerical digits?"

"What are those?"

"Can you write numbers one through ten?"

He looked over the numbers she had written down. Her five and six were backwards, and she was missing the eight and the two. Bane made a note of that on his datapad.

"How far can you count? Would you like to try?" he asked.

"I can make it to twenty, but I don't know how to count past twenty."

"I'll teach you how to count past twenty."

Bane had made a list of what to ask Tee. Questions such as how many major systems were in the galaxy, the largest populations of sentient species, how to put out a fire, what five times three equaled, the difference between pentagons and octagons, and so on and so on until they had been sitting there for nearly two hours. During this time, he had made many notes on his datapad about things he was going to teach to Tee. He had also made a separate list of what he would teach to her through holobooks and what could be taught through hands-on experience.

Tee rolled her eyes as Bane told her he only had _one _more question to ask.

"One more question, you _promise_?" Tee moaned, flopping around her sheet of paper which had been filled on both sides.

"I _promise_," Bane said solemnly.

"Okay..." she sighed. Bane pretended to read over his datapad, and then he asked, "How would you like me to take you for a ride on the new speeder bike?"

Tee stared at him with wide eyes.

"Do you mean it? Are you serious? But you told me I'm not allowed to ride it."

"Well, you deserve it after all that. My treat. What do you say?"

Tee whooped and jumped out of her chair, racing for the garage downstairs.

"I'm going to ride on the bike! I'm going to ride on the bike!"

Bane got up to follow her.

"Hold on, you're not riding all by yourself. You're going with me."

Tee was nothing short of ecstatic as she followed Bane into the garage and he began to prepare the speeder bike. He already had protective armor picked out and re-sized for her. As excited as she was, Tee somehow managed to hold still as Bane fixed the armor over her torso, arms, legs, and hands, then put a helmet on her head that protected the top of her lekku. He put the visor down over her eyes and she squealed.

"I can't believe I get to ride your bike!"

It was late afternoon by then, and the hills were painted with the colors of the twin suns sinking towards the west. It was past midday long enough that the cool night air had just begun settling in, but not too late so that there would be Tuskens out and about. In other words, it was the perfect time of day on Tatooine to go for a drive. Bane let her sit in front and hold the handlebars. His hands covered hers to help guide her steering. Then they set off into the wilderness that stretched out all around like a canvas with no brush marks, and no civilization in sight.

Nobody else was around. Nobody else was going to bother them. It was just the two of them and Bane did not want to have it any other way.

Bane did not realize it at first, but he was already giving Tee her very first lesson: how to steer a speeder bike. He drove them to a steady, even plateau in the desert where he gradually allowed Tee to take control of the speeder bike, showing her how to turn, speed up, and slow down. In minutes she was getting the hang of it. She learned fast...a very encouraging sign.

That was the first time Bane heard her laugh so long and heartily. It dawned on him that it was the fact that someone had taught her how to do something on her own, that made her so happy. It was probably the first time in many years anyone had so much as bothered to teach Tee anything. Anything that would give her help over harm, that is.

As he began to lead the speeder bike back in the direction of home, he heard Tee say that she was beginning to feel cold. Bane let her release the handlebars and wrap her arms around his waist. For some reason, as Tee clung to him and they watched the house draw nearer around the bend, Bane felt a sense of comfort and security he had never had before. Perhaps it was having someone hold onto him with no intentions of letting go that made him feel that way. Perhaps it was knowing that for the first time he was going to give something to someone else without expecting them to pay him back. Or, perhaps, it was simply the fact that he would not be coming home to an empty house anymore.

He made the remainder of the trip as peaceful and relaxing as was possible on a speeder bike, seeing how it was Tee's first time. Night had almost fallen by the time they were back at the house, and when Bane looked down he discovered Tee had fallen asleep, still clinging to him. He picked her up and carried her inside, and laid her down in her bed without a sound.

_Don't worry about anything, Tee. I'm going to teach you all you need to know so you'll stay safe. You're going to be all right._

* * *

If there was one day that would remain strong and clear in Cad Bane's mind years later, it was the memory of the day that Tee reached out and touched the holobook on herbs and medicines.

To be quite honest, he did not think much of it at the time, if at all. It was just another holobook to him. A holobook he bought and downloaded a copy of off the HoloNet through a security droid that kept their location and identity invisible to any other HoloNet users. A holobook he gave to Tee for the sake that she could get an education just like any other girl her age who went to school and went on field trips and studied plants in a small lab, and for the time being hopefully function as a means of educating Tee until she could enroll in such a school. Which seemed less and less likely, and that only meant Bane downloaded more and more holobooks. That was what the book on herbs and medicines was from the beginning, and that was all it was intended to be.

The day that Bane began to catch on to the fact that there was something different this time, was supposed to be a peaceful day. He had only recently completed work for a crime syndicate centered in Mos Espa, payment for which was not entirely impressive but covered the bills and some new supplies. Now, with said payment, Bane had purchased new engine parts for the speeder bike, which it needed desperately.

He spent most of the morning lying on his back underneath the speeder, slowly working on replacing the old parts with the ones he recently purchased. This would not have been such a difficult task if Bane was more used to repairing vehicles himself, rather than simply sending them to a garage so someone else could fix it. Around the time the war began, Bane's reputation had earned him enough benefits so that he did not have to stoop to such forms of manual labor. Being a professional at his job, he had more important things to do than spend an entire day fixing a speeder. In addition, having a busy schedule, employers on both sides, and the Republic putting a high price on his head had further complicated matters.

These days, however, it was a whole other story. If the engine wouldn't run, you could not just send it into town to get it fixed. That cost money he no longer had the flexibility to spend nor the time to give away. You saved yourself the expense by fixing the engine yourself, and that meant you had to know how to take things apart and put them back together without anyone's help. Furthermore, it wasn't a bad idea to keep any scraps you had, and maybe collect parts from vehicles you might find broken down out in the desert. Because you just never knew when you might need it.

Such was the mentality Bane had discovered he would need to acquire, if he was going to continue with this new way of life.

By the time it occurred to Bane how long he had been working on his current garage project, it was almost noon with nothing on the table for them to eat. He dragged himself out from under the speeder, cleaned the grime off his hands, and returned upstairs to find Tee and make sure she was all right by herself.

Bane had been expecting Tee to do be involved in one of her regular activities. Rearranging her growing collection of so-called _trinkets_; cleaning or sweeping another part of the house that was still covered in filth; or playing around with a small, broken piece of equipment that Bane currently did not need. As it turned out, Tee had a holobook opened in front of her and three bowls with unidentified items inside of them, all spread out on the kitchen table. Bane did not know what to make of it.

"Tee, are you hungry? I'm going to make something." He glanced over the three bowls and the holobook, still confused. "Whatchyu doing?"

"I'm making medicine."

"Medicine? I see." Bane approached the table. Inside the bowls were various plants. Some razor moss and desert sage, and a bit of juice from what might have been a cacta bush. These as well as a few other substances Bane could not identify. He figured Tee had just decided to find some stuff to play around with and pretend it was medicine.

"I have a holobook on how to make medicine from plants. I already made one from sage and cacta bush. It helps cuts heal faster and clean out any infection."

Bane nodded. It could not hurt to play along for a little while, he supposed.

"Do you have any cuts? Maybe we could try it and see if it works."

At that, Bane could not help but smile at such an odd and curious question. As he opened the conservator to search for some ingredients to make a light meal, Tee cleared her throat loudly and crossed her arms at the table.

"Why don't you check?" she demanded.

"Oh...I give up. Let's try it."

_At least this way she'll get rid of any ideas of using plant mixtures as medicine before it gets out of hand, _Bane told himself as he sat down at the kitchen table. He held out his hands in open palms, allowing Tee to look over them for any sorts of cuts.

"They're _filthy_! How did you get them like that!" Tee snapped, sounding like a housewife. She took one hand in both of hers and began searching every nook and cranny for something to try her new so-called medicine on. Her fingers caressing his knuckles and wrists felt oddly relaxing, as Tee's hands were still very small and soft and delicate.

"I was working on the engine. Engines are dirty things."

"Yeah, well, I can clearly see that. You're supposed to always keep them clean when you're going to be touching food. Don't you know better?"

"I guess I'm not too good at remembering things like that."

"_Aha_! I found one," Tee cried, and pointed to a knuckle on Bane's left hand. "See, there's a small cut right there and it's really dirty. I'm going to put some medicine on it."

"All right, all right..." he said, hoping whatever weird stuff Tee had been mixing up all morning would not be too toxic.

Tee dabbed some of the medicine on a cloth, which she pressed onto the cut. Bane had not been expecting the sharp sting that followed, and he forced down a wince. Tee repeated the motion twice more before Bane gestured for her to hold back and wait.

What followed surprised Bane at least twice as more than Tee. For sure enough, within sixty seconds, the medicine had not only managed to help clean the surrounding area but closed up the wound as well. Tee gasped when she pulled back the cloth and saw the result.

"It worked! Cad, I did it. I can't believe it worked."

"How...how did you do that?"

"I read about it in the holobook you gave me. I didn't think it would work, but it did. I think that means I'm a doctor now, doesn't it?"

"I don't know what else it would make you. You really got the hang of that quick, didn't you?" Bane looked at the pride beaming across Tee's face, as if she had saved a life or a hundred lives, and Bane cracked a small smile. "Maybe herbs and medicines is your thing."

"I'm going to make another one! But we got to make sure it's for something you already have, okay?"

With that Tee skipped away, singing her nickname "little Takira flower" over and over. As he returned to his work, Bane thought that it would be a good idea to let Tee take more interest in this making of medicines. After all, she had no friends to socialize with out there except for the droids. Taking up a recreational activity could get her mind off the quiet and emptiness, and put her hands to work. Bane did not see how it could be a bad thing at all.

At least, he didn't at the time.

* * *

On one of their first trips into the town together, Bane told Tee to stick close by where he could always see her. She said she would, but then again, Tee said a lot of things she didn't mean.

The previous night, when Bane told her he was finally going to take her into town with him, she became so excited that what was _supposed _to be a peaceful evening turned into two hours of tickle fights and pillow brawls. Bane continuously reminded himself to be gentle and not hurt her. As a consequence, Tee exacted far more punishment via tickles and pillows than Bane anticipated. But soon after Tee finally exhausted herself to sleep and Bane had to work on restocking his weapons for an hour just to wear off how embarrassed he felt about the whole thing. Letting a little girl throw you around was something he'd have to get used to. In fact, up until that night, he doubted he'd actually ever _been _tickled before.

While he went into the mercantile to pick up some supplies, Tee crossed the street to the holobook store, where a sale was happening outside. Bane stole occasional glances over his shoulder to watch Tee gaze over the shelves of books in front of her like they were made of credits.

All right, perhaps_ occasional _could be replaced with _every ten seconds_. But if there was one thing Bane knew far too much about, it was what could happen to a little girl like Tee if someone had their back turned for even five seconds too long.

The next time Bane turned around, he saw Tee speaking to one of the holobook store workers. He could already see her coming back, yanking on his coat, and begging for some credits so she could buy a holobook. But oh well, there were worse things a little girl could want to buy after all. Bane left the mercantile with his things and began to cross the street to pick up Tee, when suddenly she ran to him and grabbed his waist. Shrugging off the gesture, he began to fish in his pocket for some change when he noticed that there were tears in Tee's eyes.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"She said I was dumb!" Tee cried. "She said I was dumb just because I couldn't read the numbers. She said if I couldn't tell how much a book cost I was too dumb to read them."

Bane looked up at the holobook store. The 'she' in question appeared to be the wife of one of the local farmers, selling the holobooks at her booth.

Once they were back at the speeder, Bane knelt down and cupped Tee's chin so she would look him in the eye.

"You're _not _dumb. Nobody is dumb just because they miss a couple numbers."

"But what if all the others kids as old as me never miss numbers? I'm not as smart as them—"

"They don't matter. Forget about them. All that matters is you can tell yourself you're not dumb. Understand?" He motioned for her to clean her face up, which she did.

Had he slightly less rationale, he would have gone over there himself and straightened the matter, telling the woman off for making Tee cry like that. Of course he had a lot more insults in mind than just 'dumb' he'd be more than happy to use. But what good would that do, other than draw them unnecessary attention? It's not like he could make her undo hurting Tee. Not to mention he didn't want to teach Tee the habit of starting pointless fights.

So, once again, he had to resist his second nature. He didn't always like having to do that. But he might as well get used to it.

* * *

_19 BBY – one year ago_

_._

_They had moved in to the hideout exactly one week ago. As soon as they arrived, Cad Bane realized it was going to need some heavy renovation if this was going to be where Tee stayed. Things he normally would have deemed as a waste of money and space were now essential, such as extra safety measures, comfortable bedding, and locks for the places he kept his weapons and ammunition. As Tee chose which place for her bed to be, Bane made a long and plentiful list of what they would need._

_Tee, who was still trying to decide what she wanted her full name to be, did not say much for that first week. Once in a while she may ask Bane a question, such as where the tall Kyuzo male left to while they were at the hospital, and what she was going to eat when she was hungry. Most of what Bane fed her was either pre-made or instant, a diet he knew would not be healthy for her if he wanted her go grow stronger. So that would have to change too. As for Embo's disappearance, Bane avoided the topic altogether. Other than this, Tee was very quiet._

_In their first few days living in the hideout, Bane cut off any contact with the outside world. He only occupied himself with making both of them comfortable and safe in their new home. For long periods of time, entire morning or afternoons even, Bane found his mind wandering, and this was never good. It always ended with him wondering if he should ask Embo to come back for Tee before he shot himself, just as had been the original plan all along. Every time Bane began to consider this, he had to quickly go outside and away from any weapons so he could be alone and unable to harm himself. Sometimes it would be hours before Bane could go back to the house in confidence that he was not going to try anything. Of course, it would not occur to Bane until much later that these long hours when he was alone meant that Tee was alone too. Alone in a dark house with nothing to occupy herself._

_But for the first week, Tee did not seem to mind having nothing to do. In fact, it was like a burden lifted from her shoulders. It was as if for the first time in her life, Tee had nothing to worry about, much less think about. She made herself a small bed in which she rested, hummed to herself, and used cheap art supplies Bane bought for her to paint pictures on the inside walls._

_Cad Bane would remember that first week, save for their first night in the house, as being uneventful and very, very quiet for both of them. Considering what the previous few weeks had been like, he had no qualms with that. They could damn well use a little quiet._

_The quiet ended exactly one standard week after Bane and Tee left Ryloth and came to Tatooine. Bane sat up straight in bed, swearing he had heard a loud sound. When he listened again, he realized it was coming from the other room and it sounded like screaming. Bane got out of bed to find Tee. As he approached her, Bane could hear words spoken between the blood-curdling cries._

"Stop touching me. Stop touching me."

_Bane walked in and found Tee curled up on the floor, her knees up to her chin. She had used her fingernails to scratch open her arms. Blood clotted beneath her nails and formed prints on her legs._

_Bane knew what was happening almost immediately._

Nightmares. _Tee was reliving Ryloth, and...and whatever had happened to her on Ryloth. And seeing how she had clawed at herself, as if trying to shed a layer of skin she felt was dirty and defiled, and screamed on the floor desperate to tell them to stop touching her, Bane did not need any imagination to know what must have happened. He felt nauseous. She was only ten years old._

_He got down on the floor and grabbed Tee so she would stop scratching. She screamed and tried fighting back, but of course she was no match for him. Tee shook her head as tears streamed down her face, and Bane held her wrists so she could not hurt herself anymore. Finally he gave her a firm shake._

_"Wake up—you're fine."_

_Tee's eyes shot open and she looked around her as if she had forgotten where she was. Slowly it all began to come back to her._

_"You're all right. Everything's all right."_

I wish I knew what to do. What are you even supposed to do? _he wondered. He had been in situations where he saw something like this happen to a sentient, but never in the position where he had to help them. If at all, he would ignore it, pretend it wasn't happening. Ignorance was no longer an option._

_Tee looked up at him. Her lower lip was trembling._

_"I'm okay?" she whispered hoarsely._

_"You're on Tatooine, remember? Everything's all right." Bane let go of her and took a nearby cloth with which to clean her face. "Nobody's going to hurt you."_

_"But I...he..."_

_"They're all gone now. They're not here anymore."_

_She cried some more, but Bane was almost certain she was out of the bad dream by then. Her body was still shaking, so Bane held her in his arms, and for a long time they said nothing to each other, sitting on the dirty floor of the house, in the darkness, listening to Tee's quiet sobs and Bane's slow breathing. Every once in a while he would hear her whisper something along the lines of "I didn't like him", or "I want it to go away."_

_He wondered when this would end for her. If it ever would. Did things like this ever go away?_

_"Can you sing me something?" Tee finally piped up._

_"What for?" Bane replied, as he could not understand why she would need singing to at all._

_"I've never had someone sing to me."_

_"Oh. Okay, then...what would you like me to sing?" Bane tried to think of something, but no songs he knew came to mind as that which would be a source of comfort to Tee. He had never really bothered to pay much attention, except for whatever radio signals he got in space or in the nearest cantina._

_"Just sing something."_

_Then Bane recalled an older song he had once heard. It had been performed in a high-class club on the Colo system while he did some undercover work there. At the time he was mere weeks away from his first time being hired by the CIS, a job that would strengthen his reputation and make his name one of the most infamous in the galaxy. But of course, on Colo, he had no knowledge this was about to happen. Instead he had stayed in the club, having nothing to do at the moment, so he allowed himself to relax for a few moments and listen to the song with his full attention. Somehow, the lyrics had stuck with him all this time._

_The song he heard in the club was titled 'the Takira song', after a flower that was said, according to legend, to only grow out of ashes._

* * *

_A/N: Yes, I am writing "awwww" scenes with full deliberation and intention...why? Because I need to give my characters "awwww" moments, that's why!_

_Bane is not the best daddy (as we'll get more into with later chapters) but he gets a gold star for trying. __Enjoy the cuteness, everyone._

_Reviews are appreciated and I'd _love_ to hear what you think of the story so far!_


	3. Life Is Fragile

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Three: Life Is Fragile_

* * *

Tee was awoken one night by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. She startled awake, sitting up straight with her eyes wide open. Terror and alarm gripped her tiny body.

Before she could begin to fathom what sorts of intruders could be at the door, a familiar voice rang out through the darkness that calmed Tee's breathing immediately.

"It's all right, it's only me."

Cad was home late. Much later than he had said he would be, come to think of it. Tee began to climb out of bed, but the faint silhouette held up his hand for her to stop.

"Everything is fine. Just go back to sleep."

It was Cad's voice all right, but he sounded different than when he had left the house early that day to work. It was as if he were talking to her from a long distance away. As if he wasn't actually there.

"You _said _you'd be back by mid-afternoon," Tee pouted, recalling his earlier words. "You _said_ you'd be back so you could show me how to play dejarik and then we were going to go catch the krayt dragon out back."

"I know what I said. You think I don't? I came back as fast as I could, so you don't have to whine about it."

She squeezed the covers, burying her face in them. She _hated _when he used that tone of voice. It sounded like knives.

He said nothing for a couple seconds. Then when Tee's shoulders began to tremble and she felt the sharp lump forming in her throat again, his old tone was back.

"We'll do it tomorrow morning," he muttered.

Tee scowled beneath the covers. She refused to grant him a reply.

"Tee?" he called out quietly into the thick darkness. "I'm not working tomorrow. We'll play dejarik and catch the krayt dragon then. I promise. We'll have the whole day to do whatever you like...how does that sound?" Another pause.

Tee waited for the sound of him returning to his room. The covers became thick and unbearably warm, and she could hardly breathe, but she still did not move or say anything. After some time, she heard Cad slip away and walk down the hall into his room, and then the house fell silent again. With relief she pulled the covers off her head and tried to go to sleep.

* * *

The first thing Tee did when she awoke the next morning was put on the pot to make hot water. Then she dressed quickly and raced to Cad's room to wake him up. Tee had already forgotten she was angry about yesterday. She just couldn't wait.

"Wake up, it's morning!" Tee cried as she ran through the doorway. "I put the water on! Oh yeah, and I want hotcakes for breakfast! When can we—" She stopped.

Despite all the ruckus she made, Cad was still sound asleep. He was almost always awake first, and had breakfast ready to be cooked by the time Tee got up. And when Tee did wake up before him and put the water on herself, she always walked in to find him dressed and ready. This morning, he still hadn't moved.

"Cad, are you awake?" Tee asked again.

He didn't budge. He was lying on his back with his head turned to the side, on top of the covers which were in a tangled disarray. Tee noticed white strips draped over his torso and one arm. A small tube started at the base of his neck and connected to a small bag hooked onto the wall behind him. Other such small tubes connected to his arms and wrists as well. In one hand he was holding a blaster.

Tee pinched his arm; he didn't respond. She realized he must have had a very, very long day if he was still asleep now. She also wondered why he would bother to bring a blaster to bed with him. Maybe it was kind of like how she brought her handmade stuffed toys to bed when she was feeling nervous or sad, although she couldn't imagine what could be so comforting about having a weapon with you when you were asleep.

Something was glistening on his hand, and Tee looked closer. When she saw what it was, her stomach churned. There were scratches covering his knuckles and the back of his hand, some of which were so deep they had drawn blood.

Tee looked away, tasting a bit of sick in her mouth. She _hated_ blood. It made her feel horrible.

When she felt that she was brave enough, Tee decided to see if Cad was hurt anywhere else, so she carefully climbed onto the bed and looked over his other hand. It was also scratched in the same manner. Tee swallowed her sick before checking his arms and shoulders where she discovered a series of bruises in various sizes and colors. She also looked down at the white strips over his torso, and realized that the white strips were bandages. That meant there were even worse scratches underneath those.

Tee knew what she had to do. She ran to find the medical kit. In the happenstance that she were ever injured, he had given her one she was allowed to keep nearby her other things. However, the medical kit was only allowed to be used in serious circumstances. But Tee figured this was pretty serious anyway. When she found the kit, she returned to the room and began to apply new bandages with the medicine, just the way he had showed her a couple months ago ago.

"Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel better," Tee whispered, working hard to make the bandages cover the scratches on his hands correctly.

When she had finally finished her work, she looked over it with slight less than enthusiasm. For some reason, the results of her work did not look as neat as she was sure they would be. The bandages were crumpled up in some places, and in others they crisscrossed over each other causing the medicine to leak out. It looked good enough to Tee, though. With that, she fixed herself a cup of hot tea and took it to Cad's room, where she pulled up a stool to sit down beside his bed. He still had not moved and the morning was starting to get late. The water would not be hot for much longer.

But Tee did not want to force him to wake up. As much as she wanted to learn how to play dejarik and catch a krayt dragon, she knew that Cad needed his rest if he was very tired. Besides, she did not want him to be alone when he did wake up. So Tee made herself as comfortable on the stool as she could, sipping her tea. When she finished her tea, she set the cup aside and rested her chin against the bedside. The morning sunlight trickled into the room, making it somewhat brighter.

On occasion, Tee heard him cough or groan softly in his sleep. Sometimes he said a word or two, but Tee never really understood what they meant, so she paid no attention. It was just as well she didn't.

Tee did not even realize she had fallen asleep until she felt a sudden movement. Startled, she opened her eyes and sat straight up. She heard him say something along the lines of, "Get the fuck away from me you bastard," before he sat up and aimed the blaster at the opposite wall.

"What's the matter?" Tee asked. He had used that word, 'fuck'. Tee _hated _that word, almost as much as she hated blood.

"Get the—" Then he turned and noticed her. His eyes softened. He was breathing heavily. Suddenly, he lowered the blaster and let out a loud sigh. "Oh, it's just you."

"Did you have a bad dream too?" Then she asked, "Who were you talking to?"

"It doesn't matter."

"But—"

"I _said _it doesn't matter." He seemed to shudder before he fell back down on the bed, as if he wanted to go right back to sleep. "Sorry about that. Just another f—screw up. I thought I was somewhere else."

Still feeling slightly shaken up by the incident, Tee began to back out of the room. He sat up again, setting the blaster aside.

"Hey, I said I was sorry. What else do you want?"

"Oh. I was just wondering...if I could help."

He began to shake his head when he must have realized what she meant, because he rubbed his eyes and sighed again.

"Yeah, sorry about that. You can't really help—"

"But I want to help and I can! I'm not dumb, you know." She pointed at the bandages. "See, look? I _can_ help."

Tee gasped when he looked about to tear off all the bandages. He stopped at the last second and she felt relief. Good, that meant she _had _helped instead of make things worse. That was a good thing.

"Fine, fine, you can help by getting breakfast started. Good enough?" he asked as he removed the tubes, pulled on a cardigan sweater, and got out of bed.

She beamed, not understanding at the time how she intentionally avoided the look in his eye that said otherwise. As Tee ran to the kitchen and began to lay out the food ingredients, she asked how Cad got the scratches on his hands and stomach. He did not answer at first as he began to help her with the preparations.

"I just ran into a bit of trouble, that's all," he finally said.

"What kind of trouble?"

Cad paused, fixing up the batter to make hotcakes, before he blurted out,

"It was a cat."

"A _cat_?" Tee echoed, and wondered if it was appropriate to laugh.

"A big, big cat, with four eyes." He pointed just below his eyes to motion where the cat's two extra eyes had been.

"You were paid money to get a _cat_?" Tee laughed. Of course, it was not until years later that Tee would read about the big four-eyed cat in a holobook, thereby discovering that Cad had been referencing the nexu, a wild animal with claws that could rip a sentient in half and was popularly used as a security beast.

"Got paid money to do something else. The cat came later."

"Can we get a cat? I want a pet cat."

As he poured the batter to start making the hotcakes on the heater, his tone was cold and firm.

"No. We are _not_ getting a pet." He began to make his argument before Tee could whine about it. "Taking care of a pet is a lot of work. It costs money. And besides that, what if your pet ran away and someone else found them? Do you know what that would mean?"

"Someone else gets our pet and we don't."

"Uh...sure, that too. But whoever found your pet would figure out that someone lives out here. And we don't want anybody knowing that." She heard a trace of the knives in his tone again. "Sorry. We're not going to spend extra time and money on an animal that might just get up and run away."

Tee took her fresh hotcakes to the table with a long face, not even bothering to top them with sugar or blue milk. She could feel Cad's eyes on her as she began to eat. She didn't care if it cost money or would be a lot of work. She wanted a pet cat _now_.

"But I'll tell you what," he suddenly said, and the knives were gone again, "I bet the krayt dragon may have some young ones who are still too little to be dangerous. If we find them, you can play with them for the afternoon before we let them go. How about it?"

Tee smiled. She could not wait.

* * *

After three hours of dejarik and a dozen more hotcakes, they were ready to leave the house and hunt down the krayt dragon, which Cad had spotted three days ago hanging around the area. Just before he left for work, he set up various traps that the dragon might fall into pinning it helpless so they could kill it later.

Tee, who did not even know what a krayt dragon looked like, held on to Cad's arm for dear life as they set off on foot toward the first trap. Cad held a blaster rifle and a shovel under one arm, which was set on high level that would certainly kill the beast if it had been caught. The sun was beating down, and Tee wished he had not made her wear the thick padded gloves.

The word _dragon _made Tee think of an animal scary and fierce and deadly, so when Cad freed his arm to point ahead at the trap and said, "Good news, looks like we caught her", she found herself whimpering.

"It's not going to eat us, right?" Tee asked.

"What?" he said incredulously. "No, of course not, silly. It fell in the trap, so it's helpless. I'll just shoot it quick and it'll be over."

"You're not going to hurt it, are you?"

"One shot, that's all. The dragon won't feel a thing," he said.

"You _promise_ it won't feel a thing?"

"It'll be just like going to sleep."

All the same, Tee grabbed his arm again and squeezed it even tighter. They walked another quarter of a mile or so before they arrived at the spot where Cad had set up the trap. Tee saw a hole dug in the ground with a pole sticking out. A cable was attached to the pole, and the end of the cable had latched itself around the throat of the dragon which lay at the bottom of the hole. Tee saw a bit of blood on the dragon's neck and she felt sick again.

"Are you _sure_ it won't eat us?"

"It can't reach us, Tee. See, the hook on the end of the cable fastened on its spinal cord. Paralyzed it from the neck down." Cad prompted her to release his arm. He laid the shovel on the ground and lifted the rifle. "It's been like that since about this time yesterday. Would you like to shoot?"

"No, I don't want to. I don't want to kill her. _You_ do it."

He shrugged. Tee realized she was looking away as Cad raised the rifle to his shoulder, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The krayt dragon made not a sound of pain or protest. Instead, its pale head dropped down into the dirt where it lay motionless. Tee wanted to see what the creature looked like now that it was in peace, but she could not bring herself to look over the edge of the hole again.

"If you want to stay up here, I'll take apart the trap so we can bury it."

"No, I'll help. Let me come down." Tee held her breath, her muscles tensed. She held up her arms for Cad to catch her and carry her down into the hole. When it was over, Tee used all her focus to keep her eyes on the trap and Cad showing her how to take it apart so they could use it again for later. She rolled up the cable, disconnected the pole from the ground, folded it up, and by the time they were finished, Tee discovered she could carry the entire contraption by herself. Her amazement nearly overcame the fact that she had seen her first dead animal.

Tee jumped when she heard a small cry from the bottom of the hole.

"Sounds like it had a little one. Would you fancy that," Cad muttered, jumping back down into the hole just before he had begun to bury the dragon.

"There's a baby dragon in there?" Tee cried.

All at once her old thoughts about how much she wanted, no, _needed_ a pet from that morning flooded back. She just had to see this baby dragon and take care of it and even give him or her a name. "Let me see it, let me see it!"

"Oh, wait...you might not want to."

"What do you mean?"

Cad put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it before he explained what he meant.

"If a dragon senses it is trapped or starving, they sometimes kill their young to survive. This one tried to do the same. It's alive, but I don't think it will be much longer."

"What happened?" He did not answer her. "Cad, I want to see. I want to see the baby dragon. Maybe I can take care of it and make it all better."

"It's hurt pretty bad."

Tee stomped one foot on the ground, which always got his attention.

"Please let me try. I just want to try. Let me take care of it. I really want to, please let me try."

He muttered the word she hated again, "fuck", before he sighed and said, "Oh, fine, go ahead." After this, he gathered up the small animal in his arms.

When Tee saw the baby dragon, she wanted to cry. It was missing a leg and an eye, and one side was horribly bloody. Tee could not imagine what kind of a mother would want to kill her own child to survive. No real loving parent would do that.

"Let's go back to the house. I still have to bury the mother, so I'll have to leave you two for about an hour."

"That's okay," Tee answered. "Maybe if I try I can save it, and then I can take care of it until it's ready to go back outside."

"We'll see," he said simply. Once they were back at the house, Tee found an empty metal crate and stuffed an old cleaning rag in it. Cad laid the animal inside and looked over it for a minute, as if trying to decide something. Meanwhile, Tee grabbed her holobook on medicine as well as some scraps Cad had said she could use as bandages.

"I'm going to make it all better," Tee promised herself.

* * *

Cad Bane worked tirelessly burying the krayt dragon. Every so often he spread a layer of chemicals in the dirt that would help kill the corpse's smell. That way it would not be dug up by any other critters. Then he would shovel more dirt on top to form another layer.

As he worked, Bane mentally processed Tee's reaction to seeing the dead animal as well as the alive young one. Being no older than eleven standard years by now, and having little experience of the outside world, Tee did not appreciate seeing what she did that day. He knew the young one she was taking care of back at the house was not going to make it. There was no doubt in his mind. Bane just had to figure out what he was going to tell her when it happened.

Sensitivity to death was common at a younger age, only Bane should have expected Tee to be even more sensitive. Perhaps, he wondered, it would not be so bad for Tee if he helped her slowly grow more used to the thought of taking a wild animal's life. If he showed her it was practical and could be done painlessly for the animal, she might become less sensitive. Today's events were a start, but he had to decide what time would be appropriate for the next step.

The more Tee was used to it, the better off she would be. She couldn't go around crying for every little thing that dropped dead. Above all, she couldn't be afraid to pull the trigger on another sentient if her life counted on it.

In time, Bane planned to teach her so. That the galaxy was full of monsters who would only see her as an object to use and afterward dispose of. And in the face of such monsters it didn't do one any good to hesitate on eliminating the threat. Tee may not like that now, but she would have to learn to one way or the other.

There was no other way around it, Bane decided, as he finished his work and rested the shovel against one shoulder. He had to teach Tee how to kill wild animals, how to hunt, how to fire any basic weapon. He had to instill the necessary survival skills in her.

It was late afternoon by the time Bane walked back to the house. He returned to find what he had been expecting. Nevertheless, when he walked through the doorway and looked down, he still felt a small ache inside.

Tee was kneeling on the floor in front of the metal crate, in which the baby krayt dragon lay unmoving and wrapped in a bloody rag. Tee's shoulders shook with every sob, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Bane almost wished he could understand why she would be so upset that a little critter died. More than not he felt confused.

"I did everything the book told me to," Tee sobbed. "I used all the right medicine and I took good care of her. But she died and I couldn't save her."

Bane knelt down beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder to soothe her crying. She flinched at first, but slowly became used to it.

"It's not suffering anymore," he said.

It was all he could think of. What the hell was he supposed to say? That he told her so? That nothing she could have done would save it anyway? That crying didn't bring anything or anyone back?

"But it's not fair," Tee protested. "Why did she have to die? She was so little, and it's not her fault her mother fell into that trap. Why is it so unfair?"

Now Bane felt utterly clueless as to what he should say, not to mention uncomfortable in his own shoes.

"Well, Tee, you know...a lot of life isn't fair. That's just the way things are. We just have to deal with it."

"I wish it didn't have to be not fair. I wanted to give her a name and everything, but now she's gone. I don't know if I want a pet anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because she was only here for a few minutes and seeing her die made me so sad. I don't want to love someone for a long time and have to say goodbye to them, too."

Bane wanted to tell her he agreed completely with her thinking, but instead he just let her sit there for a while on the floor, looking down at the lifeless body as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. A few minutes passed before he saw Tee lean over the body, lower lip pouting, as she planted a small kiss on the creature's forehead.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked, and regretted it instantly.

_Shit, wrong thing to say...I'm never going to get this parenting thing down. I just keep fucking up._

Tee sat up straight, not seeming affected by the callousness of the remark.

"When I was on Ryloth," she said, "someone told me that where we live, a kiss on the cheek means 'goodbye', and a kiss on the forehead means 'goodbye forever'. She's gone now, so I told her 'goodbye forever'."

When Bane sensed that she was ready, he got her up and helped her bury the body outside. By then, it was nearly dark. Save for a few sudden outbursts of grief, Tee seemed to handle herself well.

That night, Bane mentally processed a hundred things he wanted to say to her, but would never be able to get out just right unless it stayed in his mind.

_Life isn't fair, Tee. Some are dealt bad decks from the start. Some get the best hands but lose them in a heartbeat. Be unfair right back; it's the only way you'll make it. You won't always like it, but liking it helps. If you try to stay fair you're going to lose everything. One day, you will understand that._

_You will also understand that there are people out there who make life even more unfair than it already is. They are the reason we can't live fairly. Everything they touch becomes toxic. You will have to learn how to stay away from those people no matter what. Truth be told, I was one of them._

_What the hell am I thinking. I am still one of them._


	4. Finding Home

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Four: Finding Home_

* * *

_"Don't be afraid  
God knows that mistakes will be made  
But I promise you I'll keep you safe"_

_- Sleeping At Last, "I'll Keep You Safe"_

* * *

_17 BBY_

_._

Over the course of their second year living at the house, they came to accumulate a set of routines upheld as non-negotiable. Many of the routines depended upon the time Bane spent not working. Others took place on the occasions when they went into town together or, even better, took a day trip to one of the planet's spaceports. These 'routines' consisted mostly of Tee's list of household chores and her homework, Bane's chores and job-related tasks, and his teaching of Tee.

One of Bane's teaching methods, and one of their favorite 'routines', was to take Tee out to a place on top of a plateau that Bane called a _shooting range_. It was a wide open area with a few holographic targets on one end and some handmade stands on the other, where one could load, position, and fire the designated weapon.

Tee remembered going there within two years of when they began living in the house. They spent roughly an hour going over the three or four weapons Bane had chosen for the day to practice on...how to clean, carry, load, and store each one. Another hour or two was spent firing each weapon in turn at the targets. She did not mind the loud sound of blaster fire after the first few trips to the shooting range, and in time she became so well acquainted with all the rules to using a weapon that she had them memorized.

At first, it was all fun and games. She missed the target, Bane told her what she did wrong, and she tried again. She hit the target, she got praise, and hitting the center went towards a special treat for the next time they were in town. Shooting weapons became a favorite activity of Tee's. To her, there was nothing not to like about it.

She remembered the day that would change. After this day, she no longer looked forward to their trips to the range. In fact, she despised them, and always tried to think of a way out of them even though she never could. Bane would drag her back to the range and force her to keep practicing on penalty of skipping supper. This was the last day Bane did not have to resort to this method of teaching.

As they were going over the basics of how to take apart and put back together the rifles, Bane said something that Tee would never forget.

"If the time ever comes, you might have to kill another sentient. You should know that by now. It's not a bad thing at all. One day you might realize you have to defend yourself and the only way you can is by taking someone's life. You don't need to like it, but you should be ready for it."

Tee was horrified.

"I thought...I thought I only had to shoot animals..." she said, her mind a jumble. Before he could ask her if she had heard what he said, which he tended to ask a lot, Tee interjected, "Why would I ever _kill_ somebody? I couldn't kill anyone. Why would I have to do that?"

"Look, it's the facts, so live with it. Maybe you'll never have to, and that's just fine, too. But if it does happen, you have to be ready for that. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"No, Cad, I couldn't. I'm not going to kill anybody. I couldn't kill anybody." Tee set down the rifle and backed away. How could she take a life, just like that, no matter how threatened she felt? How could she reduce another sentient to nothing more than an obstacle in her way, and remove them as one would remove rubble or trash? She knew she could not do it. But to _kill_, to steal what shouldn't be stolen, to let the body rot and treat a sentient like a wild creature and _kill _them...the very thought made Tee sick to her stomach.

Sometimes at night she woke up crying because she did not save the infant krayt dragon. It happened almost a year ago now but she did not forget the moment she saw the tiny infant, bloody and whimpering and cold, stop breathing as she watched helpless to do anything about it. The image had haunted her since, some days more than others. It wasn't fair, Tee told herself. She wished she had given it a name and let it run wild and free and live the life it was supposed to, and it didn't. She could not save the dragon in time, so in a sense it was her responsibility, so she might as well have killed it.

But that was just a little dragon, an animal who could not speak or cry or think or understand complex things, so she could only imagine how much worse the life of a sentient would weigh on her conscience. To say the least, Tee felt that such a burden would never allow her to be happy ever, ever again.

She refused to shoot any of the weapons that day. After many attempts at persuasion, Bane gave up and said she could not have supper that night, which was just as well. Tee felt sick enough already.

* * *

Cad Bane watched Tee from where he sat on the front porch. He had returned from another killing job in Bestine, the kind that made quick and easy money. A sort of job hard to find these days, so coming home to spend his afternoon in relaxation felt rather well deserved.

At the moment, Tee was using a stick to poke at the fresh body of a dead female womp rat with growing curiosity. She knelt on the ground and pressed her palms against her knees.

"What do you think happened to her?" Tee asked.

"Looks like a bigger animal got to it first," he replied.

"Why does she have this red stuff in her mouth?"

"Something smaller, to feed its little ones."

"She has babies?" Tee jumped. As if the word had woken her up. "Where? Where are her babies?"

Bane sighed, because now he regretted saying anything. At this rate, Tee might end up begging to adopt five or six poor little orphan rats. It had taken him two years now, but Bane finally figured out that this was a typical tendency of many females, juvenile females in particular. Any small, helpless creature was immediately deserving of tender loving care. Which he never got around to understanding. And frankly, it always put Bane at a slight unease. Who knew when Tee would be bringing in some deadly creature's infant wrapped in a blanket? When would she let herself get bitten and infected?

"I expect they're somewhere around here, wherever it left them."

"Can we go find her babies? If we don't, they'll go hungry. They can't live without their mother," Tee said. She was on the porch now, looking up at him with the biggest, roundest eyes she could pull off. As if _that_ could change his mind.

Bane tapped her chin to let her know he was in a good mood, and rose from his chair.

"Fat chance. We're not starting a search party for those scummy critters. The less of them, the better." Bane looked up at the sky. His gaze hardened and he clenched his jaw. He led Tee back inside with one hand on the back of her shoulder, glancing over his own. "Besides that, it looks like a bad sandstorm is coming. We're staying inside."

Before shutting the door, Bane went to the back and set the rifle in its proper place among the other basic weapons he stored in the compartment. He closed the lid firmly, then headed to the house's main control wall where he began to set the system for the typical procedures as protection against the sandstorms. All windows were sealed, the backup for the moisture vaporator activated, and hatches and doorways double-checked to make sure they were closed.

Bane had been caught in a sandstorm on Geonosis once. It was not a pleasant experience. That storm had also cost the life of one of his then-assistants on a job, who wandered away from the group in the thickest stretch of the storm, fell into a narrow ravine which broke his spine and cracked his skull open. By the time they found him the next day, the local creatures had already cleaned most of the meat off the body.

Bane returned to the front room to shut the door. As he did, he hollered out for Tee to come into the room so she could pick out a holobook to read, to pass the time while they waited for the storm to pass. Bane waited for her reply.

He turned around. Surely he would have heard her in the back or in the kitchen. But save for the growing howl of the wind outside, the house was completely silent.

In a growing panic, Bane remembered what he had told Tee about the womp rat's orphaned, starving litter. And when he spun around and saw that the door had been left open, a throbbing lump formed in this throat.

"You idiot," he hissed. In his haste, he snatched a handkerchief from the storage box beneath the table and pulled on his duster. Bane ran out the door, into the biting sand that stung like thousand of needles all over the skin, and had been known to blind some for months before recovery. "You fucking _idiot_. Why did I tell her that? You should know better than to tell her that!"

Bane closed his mouth, holding one arm to protect his eyes from a strong gust. He looked down for any sign of shoe prints Tee might have left in the sand, but anything there had already been swept away by the storm. By then, the storm was already on a steady growth in strength and size. The wind howled around him, singing and whispering with the stinging needles.

He coughed violently, but the back of his throat was already dry with sand.

"Tee! Where did you go! Call out!" he shouted.

Suddenly, Bane realized he had frozen still. Unable to move and do nothing but let the storm pelt him, because there was nothing he _could _do. Tee had had almost an entire minute to run in any direction she wanted. There was a canyon less than a quarter mile off...if he did not catch her before she got there, would she fall in? Anything besides that was little more than flat desert, meaning they could both be running in circles and neither would know the difference.

Bane felt cold chills up his arms. He couldn't move. Stuck to the spot. He was paralyzed with fear, and he knew it.

"Call out!" Bane shouted again.

_She's never coming back. She's out there somewhere in that storm, and she'll go blind for a year from the sand or she'll fall into a trap and the Tuskens will take her. I'm never going to see her again, and it's all my fault. Goddammit, why did I let her out of my sight! I'm such an idiot!_

Bane covered his eyes with his arm a second time. It took extra mental control, but he forced himself to venture deeper into the storm. Each step felt more difficult than the last, the wind pulling him in the opposite direction. The sky was darkening, and small rocks were beginning to roll against the ground, some even kicking up into the air. He turned left and a gust whipped at the side of his face, straining the sensitive spot on his left eye.

"Call out." His throat ached when he heard his own voice. The storm had drowned it out.

A familiar voice rang out behind him.

"Cad?"

"Call out," he said again, turning around. This time, Bane found the strength to run again, and he ran with all the energy left inside him. With the gusts screaming all around and the sky turned to deathly nightfall and the figure in front of him barely visible as a faint silhouette, Bane ran faster and faster.

"I'm over here," the small voice said again.

Bane turned, and a weight crashed into his side. Tee was covering the sides of her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Her nose had already begun to bleed, and she was missing a glove. But she was here.

"Tee, what in the hell do you think you're doing!" he snapped.

"But I—"

"I asked, what in the hell do you think you're doing!"

She had dragged both of them out into a deadly storm, and for what? Baby womp rats. Tee put her own life on the line for the sake of a bunch of critters he was going to shoot when they grew up anyway. Anger tingled in Bane's knuckles. He did not expect a twelve-year-old girl to get everything right, but this was too much.

"What do you think you were doing! You're so stupid! You're an idiot!" Bane shouted. Sand stung the back and roof of his mouth, but he could care less. He grabbed Tee by the wrist and she let out a painful cry. Like she had things to cry about.

"But I had to. If I didn't, her babies—"

"Don't you know you could have died out here? How could you be so stupid!"

"No, but—let go of me! You're hurting me!"

Bane didn't let go. In fact, he pulled harder, which forced Tee to look up at him. Her eyes were welling up but he scarcely noticed.

"I told you to get inside, and you didn't listen to me!"

"I'm sorry, I thought—"

"You never, _ever _do that again! Do you understand me? Are you listening? Or are you really that goddamn stupid!"

She was probably still thinking about those poor little rats who were going to be ripped apart by the storm. She wasn't even thinking at all, not heeding his words. Go figure, she hadn't listened before and that's the reason she almost got herself killed. And Bane felt the anger in his knuckles swell like a poison, and he gnashed his teeth at the prospect of what Tee had done, and he let go of her with a sharp push. Instinctively, he raised his hand with an open, firm palm.

He saw Tee gasp, wince, and clench her shoulders.

Why was she doing that? he wondered. Then he realized she was preparing for the blow he was about to rain down.

For the second time, Bane found himself paralyzed. The storm was a silence in the background. He did not even notice the stinging sand or stones. There was only the little girl in front of him bracing her body to protect herself from _him_.

He didn't want her to cower like that, acting as if he were about to beat her senseless. He only wanted to show her she could not get away with such foolishness, and it was not as if she was undeserving of it, if he was correct.

And yet, there was something in the way Tee's breath caught in her throat with panic and she raised her hands to protect herself, that made Bane stop dead.

As he stood still, hand still open and raised in the air, Tee's tensed body triggered an old memory. It was this memory that made Bane suddenly feel cold with illness, horrified at what he was about to do. For he remembered when he looked up at an older figure who was poised to strike in the exact same way, and he too had winced in preparation for the blow.

_What am I doing?_

The more he realized what was about to happen, what _was _happening, the more the anger withered out of him. He did not want to even consider the fact that he had been that close to treating Tee the same way his father had treated him. And yet, here he was, catching himself right in the act.

Tee now saw him the same way he once saw his father. He wanted to keel over and be sick at the mere thought.

_I am never going to do that to her. I couldn't._

On Ryloth he had promised Embo he would take care of her because he knew no one else would. It was a promise sealed in ashes. He could break all kinds of other promises, but not this one.

_No...I am_ never _going to hurt her. I was so close._

* * *

Tee's impulse was to shrink back when she saw him raise his hand. She had _seen _that movement before from others. It was never met without pain.

Thoughts began to whisper in her head as she waited for him to strike her. These thoughts told herself that she had done a wrong thing that deserved punishment and whatever pain she was about to feel was well deserved. That angering him had been a mistake—no, that _she_ was the mistake. That's all she was to him: a mistake. Mistakes deserved more than this.

Tee wanted to cry, but she did not dare. That would only make it worse.

The wait turned into nothing short of agony. Waiting seemed worse than the actual pain.

That is why she was nothing short of surprised when he knelt down, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close. Her head rested against his shoulder, and she shut her eyes to protect them from the storm. He gripped her so tightly, it hurt. As if he were afraid she would be carried away by the storm.

"I'm sorry, please don't hurt me," Tee said loud enough so that he could hear her.

"Never leave my sight like that again," he said quietly.

Tee bit her lip, her body beginning to tremble. Then she realized it was not her body that was trembling, but his. He held her even tighter, protecting her from the storm. As she slowly understood he was not going to strike her after all, the tension in Tee's muscles slowly left, and she breathed a sigh of comfort and relief. But the fear from that moment of terror made its way to a safe place in the back of her heart, and it would never be taken away.

Bane pulled away to take off his duster, which he wrapped around Tee and covered her head with. Then he tied a handkerchief around her nose and mouth, picked her up, and carried her back to the house. The storm howled around them, a sound Tee had not realized was so loud and frightening until she found herself alone in it. But with his arms firm and holding her close, Tee felt safe.

When they returned to the house, Bane cleaned the sand off her face and hands, then checked to see if she had any injuries. When he seemed certain she was all right, Bane gave her a special liquid to drink that he said would help clean out her lungs and sinuses. Tee blew her nose twice before all the blood was gone. Then after she had taken a bath and changed into her night clothes, Bane made her eat the last of the stew from the day before and sent her to bed early.

Tee hated going to bed early, but she did not want to argue either. She could still hear the sandstorm outside, which whipped at the house and whistled against the walls of the canyons. As she tucked herself under the covers and arranged all her pillows, Bane sat down on the side of the bed and took off his hat.

Tee stifled a laugh when she saw the definitive line across his forehead. Half of it was still the same deep blue color of his skin, and the other had turned to the color of sand. He got a puzzled look on his face, which only made Tee laugh some more, and she pointed to her forehead.

"Why were you angry?" Tee asked as she lay down.

Bane pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"Because...I was scared."

"Why? You aren't scared of sandstorms."

"Oh, Tee, you take forever and a day to get this stuff. You do know that drives me crazy. I wasn't scared of the storm. I was scared of losing you."

"Oh. I didn't know you ever got scared," Tee whispered, staring at the ceiling.

"We all get scared of something. Tee, listen...I am never going to hurt you."

"Okay."

"Tee, listen..." he repeated, "I am _never _going to hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you, no matter what it takes. And as long as I'm around, I will never let anything happen to you. You're going to be all right. I'll never leave you, and I'll never hurt you. Do you know that?"

Tee nodded.

She did not have to tell herself that he meant every word. She could stay in this house forever and ever, and she would never have to feel dirty or unsafe or torn apart again. Nothing bad could happen to either of them. In this house, she was never going to feel neglected or alone as long as he was here. In this house she would never feel pain. No more hurt and no more sadness. Tee realized it was all part of the past now. They had their own house, their own little secret club, and _no one else _was invited. Everything was going to be all right, and Tee decided she was going to believe that.

Meanwhile, the fear remained in its safe place in the back of her heart, to be forgotten for a while.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you today."

"Just don't do it again."

"You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"Don't worry about me," he said with a smile.

With that, Tee could go to sleep in peace.

_Nothing is going to happen to me, _Tee told herself, after another long day out in the desert.

* * *

_A/N: I had the whole scene with the sandstorm in my head even before I finished "Space Bound", so I was super excited to finally write it. It just...had to happen._

_But I was holding my breath most of the time I wrote it...literally, on the edge of my seat. And then it brought back an old thing and I was crying and processing a lot but I made it happen!_

_I wish the entire fic could just be Bane and Tee healing each other and getting to do all the things they could never do before...but, we only have a couple chapters left before things will change - dramatically. So enjoy these moments while they last, I warn my readers with a heavy heart._

_*weeps and silently begs for reviews*_


	5. What I Don't Deserve

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Five: What I Don't Deserve_

* * *

_17 BBY_

_._

Roughly one month after the sandstorm, Bane was hired to find a smuggler in hiding who had allowed a shipment to be stolen. Said smuggler's last known location was Mos Gamos.

Bane followed his usual routine. He left early after making sure Tee had enough to eat for the day, doubled the security on the house, and made her go over all the safety measures and tips she would need to know while he was gone. Mos Gamos was a whole day's travel away, which meant that if Bane was lucky enough to find and apprehend the smuggler in about four days, Tee would be alone for nearly an entire standard week. This was not entirely unusual for Bane, but it didn't make him anymore happy about it.

Thus, before Bane left that morning, he fixed breakfast for Tee and got out her holobook on herbal medicines. If she was going to be alone that long, she would need something to set her mind to so time would pass quicker, and so she could focus.

"I have a...mission for you today," he told her.

Tee perked up at the word _mission_, since it probably sounded serious. She had only been awake less than ten minutes, but her eyes were already wide with excitement.

"What's the mission?"

"It's a very big, very important mission. You have to come up with a new formula for a medicine by the time I get back. We're in dire need of your skills."

"I'll try. I really will!"

"There's more. If I know you can do it, I'll bring you a special treat from Mos Gamos as a reward. I promise it will be very, very special."

Tee squealed with delight and clasped the holobook to her chest.

"Okay, I will, I will! I will work very hard and get it right."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you'll do fine."

This brief conversation lifted Bane's spirits as he left that dark little house and proceeded to a long day of travel across the desert to the city. There, that wasn't so hard...now Tee had something to occupy herself for however long he was gone. Of course Bane knew the holobook on medicines itself wouldn't last, so sooner or later he would have to come up with something else. Thinking about this helped pass the time as he journeyed under the hot sun towards Mos Gamos, his mind dwelling on all the options for what would help pass the time for Tee. A customized droid; a set of tools and paints for her to redecorate parts of the house; something to build or repair in the garage. The more options Bane thought up the more he realized he would have to teach Tee a lot of handy things before she could do much of anything to pass the time that would also be productive.

Mos Gamos. A dry, filthy hub for all kinds of scum for whom Tatooine's capitol of Bestine was too out in the open. Bane knew immediately where to begin searching for his target: a long string of local cantinas, gambling hubs, and illegal animal fights running along one of the city's worst districts. The familiar environment only served as a reminder of what Bane had denied until two years ago right around the time he took in Tee. It was all only one big rat race and his kind would have been better off if they were wiped out with the Jedi Order.

Three days later Bane finally located the smuggler in a small, seedy apartment complex. The reward surmounted to a total of nine-thousand credits. Receiving the payment felt like a burden lifted off his back, because for a little while longer, they were going to be all right and money wasn't an issue anymore.

But when, one day later, he pulled up to the house wearing a thick coat of sand with the case full of credits under his arm, all other thoughts left him quickly.

"Tee? I'm back," he called out as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. He glanced to the side and noticed the kitchen table still had plates of food left on it. When he looked closer, the food was clearly dry and old, like it had been left out for days.

Bane called out for Tee again, taking off his duster and hat. He began to shake the sand off of them. Then he saw a pile of Tee's dirty clothes lying on the floor. Tee still had not replied his call. A cold pit of worry formed in his stomach as he glanced downstairs and still did not see her. He was about to check the other rooms when he heard a small sound from Tee's bed.

In a way, Bane already knew what to expect when he pulled back the curtain to her bed. He saw her lying in a pool of her own sweat and vomit, her face deathly pale. She hardly moved save for her breathing. When the sunlight struck her face, she moaned quietly through a throat so hoarsely it sounded like broken glass.

_Oh, my god. Oh, my god, Tee, I'm so sorry._

"Tee, can you hear me?" He got on his knees and held one of her hands, instantly detecting that her skin was clammy. He also noticed her lips were chapped and her face was beaded with perspiration.

Tee moaned again, not even cracking an eye open.

Between his washing the sweat from her face and telling her that if she could hear him he was here now and everything was going to be all right, Bane found it increasingly difficult to breathe. He hurried to the kitchen to find an ice pack amongst the other medical supplies. As he frantically searched, his hands fumbled. He cursed himself. He found an ice pack and a cooling blanket and brought them back for Tee, laying the pack on her head and wrapping the blanket over her tiny body.

Panic choked his throat and he felt sick. Questions raced through his mind. How did she get sick? Was it passed on from him, an infection, what? How long had she been like this? Most importantly, how serious was it?

This was nothing. Tee could beat this. She would be fine in a week. This couldn't kill her. Right?

_Oh, my god, Tee, please be okay. Please don't die, _he thought as his panic rose.

Her sheets were drenched in sweat and vomit, so Bane wrapped her in the cooling blanket, picked her up, and gently laid her on his own bed so he could clean them. Then he noticed one of the medical droids standing off to the corner in sleep mode. Bane felt a churn in his gut. He bought that droid for himself, not for Tee. And now what was happening.

With a sharp rap he awoke the droid and began barking orders at it to get an analysis for Tee's illness and what medicines she needed. Then Bane felt a small sense of gratitude that he had even thought to purchase a medical droid before they wound up out here, even if he had never imagined the droid would be treating Tee instead. As the droid hurried to the other room to treat Tee, Bane began to clean up the food that had been left on the kitchen table. Bane estimated it had been left out for about two days, which meant Tee had been this sick for at least half that period.

In the worst case scenario, he would have no choice but to take Tee to a hospital in Mos Gamos. But doing so would be terribly dangerous for the both of them. To be seen out by themselves in any town larger than a few dozen people was like begging for trouble, not to mention he didn't want anyone who knew him from the war knowing that he had a young girl in his care. Needless to say, anyone who wanted to get even with him or kill him, for whatever reason, would use said knowledge to their advantage. No. A hospital was far too much of a risk.

The medical droid returned just as Bane was about to go back into the room.

"Well, what is it?" Bane snapped.

"Malaria," the droid said flatly. "Her condition is fragile. She caught it when she handled a plant that had been infected by a creature who was carrying the disease."

"What does she need?"

"Chloroquine, and as soon as possible. If she does not receive any of this treatment within a standard week, she will no longer live."

Bane's eyes widened and his knees went weak. Somehow he found himself able to find a chair and sit down, as he clenched his hands together into a fist and was tempted to break something. Once he had recovered from the shock of the droid's words, he got up to find his datapad from which to order some chloroquine to be delivered to the nearest town seventy miles away.

"Her current chances of survival are—"

"_No_. I don't want to hear it. Give her something to help her rest."

"I will do whatever I can, but she needs the chloroquine."

"I know. Now shut the fuck up!"

Tee couldn't die. Not now. She was going to be strong and grow up and fight and live. She couldn't die like this. Not in the middle of nowhere, with no one to mourn her but a few droids and the rotten bastard who let her get sick.

Knowing that until he could pick up the medicine he was completely helpless, Bane sat down next to the bed and took Tee's hand. She was still feverish, but she had stopped moaning since he gave her the ice pack and the blanket. The medical droid inserted an IV into her wrist and began to pump a fluid through it, which the droid said would help keep her hydrated and lower some of the fever.

Bane swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on Tee as she lay there looking so close to death, and he began to wonder how was it that he had killed so many scores of other sentient beings, many of whom had not deserved death, yet he could not bear the mere thought of this little girl passing away in his house.

_No, no, Tee, please don't die. You're still so small. It's too soon for you to leave. It's not fair. You can't die now. Please be okay._

Despite how exhausted he was from the long week, Bane pushed himself to ride to town and back as soon as he received the notification that the medicine had been delivered. Night had already fallen, and Tusken Raiders would be crawling through the desert. Bane could not care less about them. On the long stretch home he battled to stay awake, and a glint from the weapons of approaching Tuskens caught his eye in the distance. It was not until Bane came back to the house and handed the box of chloroquine to the droid, that it occurred to him just how stupid he had been to go out at night and how lucky he had been to make it back in one piece.

When the medical droid had finished, it stepped back and said to Bane,

"That is all we can do for her now. I will make sure she keeps getting her fluid and more doses of the medicine, but there is always the chance that we were too late."

"How can you be sure?" Bane asked, standing next to Tee's bedside again. Her sheets had been washed, dried, and laid out again by the butler droid while he was in town getting the chloroquine.

"If the fever is gone by tomorrow morning, I am almost certain that she will survive."

"And if it isn't?"

"I'm afraid that—"

"All right, just do what you have to and get out of here," Bane snapped.

Alone with Tee in the darkness, Bane brought her a fresh ice pack and sat down in a chair pulled up next to the bed. He also made sure that all of Tee's favorite items were laid out next to her, just in case she woke up. Her small set of paints, her box filled with trinkets she had been collecting since before he found her, the handkerchief with the pattern Tee wanted to sew into her own dress someday, her holobook of herbal medicines, a necklace carved out of bone Bane gave her two months back, and the helmet she wore when Bane took her for a ride on the speeder bike.

To stay awake, Bane routinely checked the IV to make sure it was still running smoothly, as well as looked at the medical droid's data computer for Tee's next dosage of medicine. He was still unsure of whether or not Tee could hear him, but in the happenstance that she could, Bane occasionally spoke to her as she slept. First he began talking in detail of everything he was going to teach her as soon as she was well again, such as card games, mechanics and repair, how to kill and dress animals, and a string of other things. When he could not think of anymore, he explained that he was going to teach himself how to sew fabrics to make her more clothing and learn how to cook better so she could have good things to eat, even teach her some languages and dialects that would come in handy, and then he reminded her of the special treat he brought back from Mos Gamos that she could have when she woke up. Finally he could not think of anything else to say, so he fell silent and waited in the quiet for Tee's fever to break. In the darkness, if he listened carefully, his subconscious began to craft the familiar sound of her singing "little Takira flower" on repeat as she scribbled on paper or cleaned the house or tried to go to sleep.

What was he going to do if she _did _die? What if his little Takira flower died out while still a bud? How could he let go of her and move on?

That's just it. There wouldn't be anything to move on _to_. Nothing waiting for him on the other side. Without Tee, there was nothing to come home to, nothing to work for, nothing to fight for. Nothing but a cold, empty house and himself, which it had taken a shot aimed for his own head to inform him that that wasn't enough anymore.

He began to feel sick again, just thinking about it. Ever since he took little Takira off of that planet and away to the house on Tatooine, something was different. It used to be only about how much money he was paid and how everyone else saw him and his reputation, how well he could stand his ground, and how people were stricken with terror when they heard his name. It wasn't that way anymore. Now, Tee's presence in his life added a whole other variable to the game. And it was not just because Tee was there when Embo pulled him out of the burning wreckage, and it was not just because Tee seemed to light up and laugh in ways that Bane did not recall seeing in somebody for a very long time.

It was also because he had worked for, and thus supported and was paid by, the same people who would have been responsible for destroying Tee from the inside out. Sure, he would not have been directly responsible, but he might as well have been. He worked for men of the same breed who claimed Tee as property, and they would have killed her, if not in body than in spirit, and the only way it would have mattered to Bane was if he would be paid for doing it.

That was the way things had been _before_. That was the only way he was capable of doing what he did. It was the only reason anyone had given him respect and job opportunities. If he had compromised only by a margin, he would have seen far less success and glory during the days of the war.

In other words, everything he had ever gained in those days was at the expense of innocents like Tee. She was only one out of thousands, if not millions. He knew that now.

So maybe when he looked after Tee, it was not just so he could obtain a personal sense of fairness or justice in a galaxy that was anything but fair or just. Maybe it was so he could personally know that he was capable of giving back a little of everything he had taken. That not all that was lost could never be found again. That he could know in a small way there was yet a chance to make right what had once been wrong, and to see a glimpse of light where once there was nothing but darkness, and then to bring to life what had once been dead. Hope. Hope that all these things were possible.

Perhaps that was why he felt so disgusted with the mercenaries who were no worse than he, and that was why he took that year-long break from the rest of the world just to regain his senses. Did he think himself better than any of them? Of course he didn't. In fact, the lot of them were probably better off than him anyway, since they still believed they were in the right.

If Tee died, he would have no one to blame save for himself.

Bane did not realize he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand touch his. He snapped awake and jolted himself to sit straight in the chair. A small voice called out.

"Can I have some water? I'm thirsty."

He looked down and saw Tee looking right back up at him. His lungs swelled.

"Tee, you're okay? How do you feel?"

"I feel like Bantha-shit. But yesterday I felt even worse."

"Where did you learn that word?"

"You say it all the time."

"Oh..." He held her hand. "Gods, Tee, you're okay..."

"Did you get it for me?"

"What?" He realized she had asked him a question. "Did I get what for you?"

"The special treat. Remember, the very important mission?"

"Right, the mission, very important." Bane felt her forehead with the back of his head. The fever was gone; it was completely gone. Tee still looked pale, but the fever had left.

"I made the medicine just like you said. You brought the special treat for me, right?"

"Of course I brought it." Bane beckoned the medical droid over. "How is she?"  
"I am pleased to say that the fever is gone. She will have to stay in bed for several days, but as long as she continues receiving fluids and her doses, she will recover soon."

"Did you hear that, Tee? You're going to be okay. You have to do whatever the droid tells you, understand? Stay in bed and keep taking your medicine."

"Okay, I will. But can you teach me how to play cards first?"

"When did I mention playing cards?"

"Last night," Tee said simply, crossing her arms over her chest under the covers. "I heard you tell me that when I was all better, you were going to teach me cards. But I can play cards in bed, can't I?"

"Yeah, sure you can." Bane stood up. He felt a sharp lump in his throat.

Tee was going to live. She was going to be here and grow and learn and fill this cold, empty house with her smiles and laughter. For the first time, he believed his own words: everything was going to be all right. Tee was okay. It was the best news he could ask for. The lump in his throat swelled and Bane's eyes began to sting.

"Listen, Tee, I'm just going to go outside for a minute."

"Why?"

"I'll only be a minute." He quickly turned his back to her and rushed out the door. He couldn't let her see him in this state of emotion. But only a few minutes later, he had recollected himself and could go back inside as if nothing had happened.

Later on that afternoon, Bane had never been more willing to spend hours and hours playing cards, and losing every single game.

* * *

As irony would have it, once Tee recovered from the malaria, she was never sick again.

She never even caught the common cold, influenza, or fever. Instead, it was as if the malaria took the rest of her weakness away with it. Her recovery, as slow as it was, was marked with a sudden growth spurt as well as newly found energy, and Tee found it easier to focus on tasks at hand as well as sustain her endurance when she was outside. She could work longer and harder hours during the day on her chores, and she found more resolve and motivation to keep up with her studies.

In the several months that followed her bout with malaria, Tee seemed to finally begin catching up to where her height and weight should be for someone of her age. This gave Bane a stronger sense of hope that the tiny, fragile little girl she had been would not always be. Someday, maybe she could the strong young woman she was born to be.

But Bane did not forget what it did to him inside to see Tee's health in such a fragile state. To come so close to losing her. To see her very life hanging on the edge of the same abyss he had once hovered near tempting it to swallow him. Now his worst nightmare became not that his dares would be reconciled at his darkest moment, but that Tee would be taken down into the abyss, and slip away from him like a vapor. He was so close to experiencing that. He _never_ wanted to feel it come that close again.

He wouldn't for seven peaceful, quiet years.


	6. The Breaking Dawn

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Six: The Breaking Dawn_

* * *

"_Oh, sweet orchard, let forgiving strands of light  
Break my silence  
Burn the night  
Oh, sweet waters, flow with love for me inside  
Cast me quietly unto morning's light"_

_- The Honey Trees, "Orchard"_

* * *

_16 BBY_

_._

It was a long journey home from Lothal. At least, that's what it felt like.

He knew it had been wrong to take a job like that, working with people he hadn't seen since the end of the war. Much less going back on his new principle that he shouldn't take jobs too far from Tatooine.

But the payment was double anything he had been making the past year, which made the offer irresistibly appealing. Bigger payment meant more time away from other work to stay home with Tee, training her and spending time with her. After all, the job only required the infiltration of an anti-Imperial security bank in the Naboo city of Theed, with two other bounty hunters leading the operation and almost a dozen more as backup. He did not foresee anything wrong that could happen. That was his mistake.

_Damn you, Boba Fett. Damn you for what you tried to pull, what you did to me._

He did not intend to forget it. The way Boba persuaded him to accept the job offer, promising good payment. The way Boba led on that he put his trust in Bane after the years they had not seen each other, and going out of his way to show he kept the best of the other team members in mind during the operation. Even pulled the chance to save Bane's life at one occurrence, a move which Bane only reserved for those he would actually benefit from by saving. Then, in a split moment when Bane let down his guard and left himself exposed, Boba turned the weapon on him.

_He planned to kill me all along. That's what he wanted. Never was about the money or honor. He just wanted the pleasure of being the one to take me out, that's all._

After that it was a long haul to Lothal where he was detained and told the authorities planned to execute him for previous crimes against their government, which he had been hired to do for the CIS years ago. Funny, Bane had almost forgotten the misery of prison, much less when you were on death row. It was a comfort, in some sense, as it reminded him of another life he began to miss in one way or another.

So he made a bold move. Using his share of the payment from the job on Naboo, Bane persuaded the bounty hunter Sugi to help him escape Lothal. He sent her the job request through a paid messenger, who found Sugi and brought her back within two days.

It was also funny how Bane used to look down on bounty hunters who had moral 'guidelines' in their line of work, labeling types of jobs they would never take no matter the price, and stuck to their original employer even under pressure of higher rewards. Bounty hunters like Sugi. He used to have no respect for their approach, considering them expendable and naïve. Ironically, being detained on Lothal made Bane realize that no one else save a bounty hunter like Sugi would have bothered to accept his offer.

The past sure had a way of hanging around like a ghost sometimes.

But he experienced more than that on Lothal. In the prison and during their escape, Bane couldn't care less if he made it out in one piece. What he cared about was making it home to Tee. If he was gone, she would be left out there in that wasteland. She would die alone, starved to death or taken by Tuskens or worse. So no matter what he had to make sure he made it home to her. That's why he had the resolve to pay Sugi for her help. That's why he did all in his power to escape, cover his tracks along the way, and return to Tatooine.

Perhaps he had underestimated her type of bounty hunter all along. An uncomfortable realization, but one that saved his neck on Lothal. Admitting to himself that he may have been wrong all those years was what ticked him off.

A few years ago, Bane, naturally, would have clung tight to the grudge until he met the young Fett again, at which time he'd seek out his revenge. And, Bane had to admit, the idea of giving Fett what Bane had been given on Naboo sounded mighty tasty. He would especially enjoy killing Fett with his own bare hands, the fucking brat. Not to mention, with Fett's growing infamy and popularity in the criminal underworld, the revenge might actually work in the favor of Bane's reputation in the long run. He would not only be known as the best bounty hunter during the Clone Wars, but also as the son of a bitch who killed the son of Jango Fett. Not that it would really improve his own fame and style in the grand scheme, thanks to the Galactic Empire and their way of making reputations rather trivial to the mercenaries, but every little bit counts, doesn't it. Reputation aside, the revenge alone worked up his inner appetite.

But even a few short years did a lot to your ideas of revenge and payback and all the bullshit that sounded a lot better in your head than it did when you painted it on the canvas of your enemy's body and dipped the brush in his blood and sorrow. Now when Bane fantasized about _revenge_, something else that must have sneaked in sometime after the end of the war interrupted with a moody whisper, "What's the fucking point? You won't get anything back by passing it on, and the pleasure always wears off faster than you want it to." Not to mention, he couldn't exactly go off on a revenge killing spree and leave Tee behind all alone.

At that point, the cost grossly outweighed the benefits.

So take it for what it was worth, swallow the pride, and keep walking. He has a score to settle but the scoreboard has been torn down. Revenge begs to be granted the breath of life but he pushes it aside, ignoring it. Not that he ever planned to forget Boba Fett's betrayal, in fact, he planned to keep that memory safe for a while.

A lot of betraying going on lately, come to think of it.

Old demons from all those years, before and during the war, play in circles and leave tracks in the dirt with their claws. They will never go away; they know him too well to disappear, the words and phrases like knives, and the pain of the death of joy and remorse. Learn to live with them and cope with the shadows, merely contemplating in dreams what freedom from them would be like. But the old demons are locked behind the gate of reason, and play in the backyard of the past where he can watch from a short distance. It is a good place from which to keep an eye on them.

And he waits desperately for a glimpse of morning to make the long nights and the hard days worth the fight.

All thanks to these wonderful short years he has spent so far with Takira, the little girl who named herself after a flower that only grows out of ashes.

* * *

Elsewhere on Tatooine, another old and lonely soul is also waiting desperately.

He stands alone in front of his small hut, looking out to the desert wasteland he has come to despise greatly in only the past two years. Someone else he once knew used to explain why they hated this planet so much, because of the heat and the sand. Ironically, only now he finally understands this.

Sometimes he finds himself to be in a small whirlwind of sorts. As he wonders how everything could have changed so suddenly and so violently. He saw it all right before his eyes so he _knows_, in his mind, that these things came to pass. He saw the burning Temple, the slaughtered younglings. He saw billions, no, trillions applaud as the Republic was buried on top of a war that in the end amounted to nothing. He watched his friends die as the rest were scattered to Force knows where. In his mind, he has accepted these events as the reality, and his mind tells him what he needs to do next if he must fulfill his new duties. But then, in his heart, another voice begs to cry out, How could this happen?! How could so much be lost? What could have been _different_? Was there a way that _I _could have stopped this, because he was my friend and I should have seen it coming, and if there was, _why didn't I?!_

This part of his heart, he must learn to keep quiet for the sake of both himself and the Force. Because he wants to cry. He wants to wonder what he could have done different. He wants to mourn and curse and let himself, for the first time, display his true emotions. But he just...can't. He does not dare. No matter how much his heart begs to be heard, he must maintain himself. Remember that he is and always will be a Jedi, and as such give his feelings away to the Force. But sometimes, especially on the nights he feels most alone...how that small part of him wishes it could be different.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's thoughts are supposed to be focused solely on his meditation to communicate with his Master. But on this night, for no particular reason he can think of, he cannot not focus at all. Instead, his thoughts wander out to the stars and all the memories they contain.

Memories of the place he used to call home that had been burned, destroyed, ransacked and left to the scavengers to pillage. Memories of the apprentice and the best friend that he had failed, and this is the failure he must learn to live with for the rest of his life. Memories of all the companions who were betrayed, the soldiers who bled and suffered and died for a government who never gave them the honor they had earned in full and forced them to turn on each other like mindless machines, the ones who died too young and too violently, and all else that had been lost. Innocence that would never be mourned. Nobility that would never be honored.

The stars are heavy with memories.

All of these he had cast out of himself, for Obi-Wan knew that to dwell on the memories would mean the death of the one thing he managed to hold onto through the loss of everything else. He had to let them go. He had to preserve what he knew was true and right and good. This is what would keep him here with the resolve to and carry on, even when darkness and despair tempted his fractured soul, for Obi-Wan knew that this terrible night would not last.

Obi-Wan knew that hope was waiting for them. Hope that the death of so many innocents would one day be rectified. Hope that justice would one day be restored and finds its place in the galaxy. Hope that, in due time, the light would find its way back into the Force, which has been swallowed and enveloped in darkness.

All of this hope, he knew, lay not too far away on the other side of the Jundland Wastes. Such a heavy burden to rest on the shoulders of a young boy.

But this was no ordinary boy. He was a Skywalker. The son of the Chosen One who was more machine now than man. Even at his young age, Obi-Wan could already see shadows of the boy's father. He is still unsure of whether to be terrified or optimistic of this, but time will tell. And time is one thing Obi-Wan has plenty of.

So he, too, waits for a glimpse of morning. Alone, and brokenhearted, and wrestling with unbearable guilt, he shall hold himself together until the bitter end. He will do this because it is all he has left to do. He is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he always will be.

* * *

The months passed, and months in time turned to years.

Tee began to favor her new name Takira more, and as such addressed herself only by that name. Something about her old nickname began to set her off in a wrong way, as if 'Tee' was too childish. The last time she ever called herself 'Tee,' she was fourteen years old.

As Takira slowly came of age, her blissful ignorance regarding Cad's choice of occupation faded. She learned how to find more information by herself through the HoloNet—information that he did not necessarily intend for her to know about. Information about the strong reputation he used to have throughout the galaxy, about the more infamous jobs he took during what was known as the Clone Wars. Of course, she could not look for this information while he was home, but she wanted to know as much as she could since she stood no chance of finding out from him. Takira's alone times in the house, however quiet and empty they were, became her solace. Her chance to break free and do what she wanted to do, going against his wishes.

She almost wished she hadn't. The HoloNet did not exactly provide a full biography on the bounty hunter known as Cad Bane. But for Takira, it was more than enough. Occasionally, it was the lack of details provided by the holojournal archives that concerned her the most.

And consequently, the more she learned about these things in secret, the more Takira also came to know that bounty hunters did a lot more than what had she been told about when she first started living in the house. From there, it was only a matter of time before Takira realized where the credits had come from that kept food on their table, kept her healthy and kept Cad working. She realized that she had been living, eating, and learning on credits Cad earned by killing or otherwise causing the brutal death of countless bounties, executing crime lords and politicians and soldiers, among scores more categorized as mere _collateral damage_. The only reason the two of them were still alive was because many more had been killed.

This knowledge did not settle well with Takira. Something about it seemed very wrong and perverse to her, but she could not make much sense of it at all. She found herself enjoying her time alone more than the times Cad was home from work and they could spend time together. As much as she hated to admit that to herself. While she strongly desired sentient company and merely being able to converse with another, having the whole house to herself, to break any rules as long as she also figured out how not to get caught, made the loss a tolerable sacrifice.

The older she grew, the more rules Takira realized she was breaking. She went out during the hours of the day Cad specifically told her not to. Not so much to find out for herself why he said no, but merely because it was another rule to break. One time, Takira almost ran into a pack of Tuskens and narrowly avoided being killed. When she got back home she felt incredibly proud of the skills she put to use by avoiding the Tuskens, but of course she had no one to share the story with. Not at the time, anyway. She also liked to sneak the occasional holojournal that was deemed 'anti-Imperial' or 'non-Human sympathetic', which were hard to find but drifted by once in a while and could be found. She read every single one she could find and learned a lot about the rest of the galaxy that way, the things Cad would never let her know was happening right in front of them.

Not to say everything Takira did broke a rule, however. Aside all this, she also worked harder on improving her herbal remedies and medicines. Someday, she hoped to find and repair a speeder of her own so she could take trips into town and begin selling the medicines, making her own sort of profit to keep them ahead of the curb. Anything was better than living only on the money Cad earned.

When Cad was home, things began to feel different. The first time Takira noticed this change happened one evening, as she was watching Cad clean red-colored blood off one of the sleeves of his duster. She would never know the person's name, what they had done, or how or why he killed them...but someone was dead and she had another meal because of it. The level of disgust ignited in her was so deep that Takira could hardly speak to him for the rest of that night and most of the next day. And to think he had the nerve to ask why she was acting all sore.

As time went by Takira's thoughts on the subject gradually turned bitter. She had questions she would never ask him. Did he ever regret murdering so many? Did it keep him awake at nights? Did he wonder how many families he had destroyed, how many futures he had taken away? Did it bother him one bit? It haunted Takira to think that he most likely had no regrets at all. And if he did he sure didn't act on them.

The house, slowly but surely, began to feel less like the only safe haven Takira had known, and more like a prison that was trapping her into becoming the kind of person she was the most terrified of. Its bars were the weapons she had been taught how to use, and its walls were all the things Cad had not confessed to her on his own accord, but things Takira found out from the HoloNet, and perhaps, the occasional story from a mercenary passing through the town. Consequently, the more Takira felt the house to be a prison, the less she was inclined to listen to her protector. Perhaps it was less because of the things he had done in the past, but that he had tried to keep all of it a secret from her.

But if she could not always trust him to be honest with her about the past, how could she trust him to be honest with anything else?

One day, she vowed, she would escape from this prison and find a new safe haven of her own, where she could be herself and not have to break any rules in order to do it.

Her protector, meanwhile, continued to earn the money that was allowing her to ignore him. But in his mind, she was safe, and that was the only important thing that mattered to him.

He contained in his heart the promises he once made during a fierce sandstorm. He would never hurt her, and he would never leave her. Nothing bad could happen to either of them. Everything was going to be all right.

But in this galaxy that is no stranger to betrayal and death and violence, every promise is fragile. Any promise can be broken in an instant. All it takes is the slightest push from the dark abyss.

The process of rule-breaking on Takira's part, to continuing the struggle on Bane's part, continued from the time Takira was fourteen years old to shortly after she turned nineteen, and then an old friend knocked on the door of the house who would change everything.

* * *

Peace.

This is what the Empire told them. The dark times were over. The times of peace had arrived. The Empire provides its citizens with everything they needed. Jobs, safety, health, food, and entertainment. Everybody receives what they need to provide for themselves and their families, and therefore, there should be no resistance to the Empire for they have no legitimate reason to resist. The Empire initiates rights and regulations that make everyone happier and more organized. If everyone simply cooperates with their superiors, lays down their weapons, and consents to Imperial security and armed forces, no one has to suffer. No one has to be discontent. The formula is that simple.

No person in their right mind would denounce such a system.

But beneath these beautiful lies so said by the Empire, the ugly truth is denied its unavoidable presence.

Blood seeps between the lines of the Empire's claims for 'peace.' Drowned out by the Empire's promises of prosperity are the screams of the suffering and the dying. And the foundation for every citizens' guaranteed 'safety' and 'security' is built upon mass tombs of the innocent.

Nothing belongs to the individual anymore. No matter what, no one is truly 'safe' from the Empire, and not the greatest riches nor the highest social status can save someone when the regulations hit too close to home. Entire systems are taken over, controlled and enslaved or wiped out completely. Deep Core cities face segregation of neighborhoods and re-distribution of goods against the consent of the citizens. Anyone who speaks up against the government is shot and anyone who lifts a hand to help faces a gruesome fate in the mines. A mass execution turned into a death camp because one person spoke up against the moff, a camp where fathers and sons line up to die as their families look on in horror. A child is delivered to the upstairs floor of an Imperial officer's quarters, where if she does not do what she is told to do by said officer, she will be shot. Entire species are led from the burning wreckage that used to be their homes, clamped in irons, and sent away to become slaves, their identities stolen by the law. Infants with high midi-chlorian counts are left in the darkness to be brainwashed and controlled for the remainder of their lives. The clones, once honored as heroes of the Republic for their service during the war, are reduced to little more than machines, and scattered among the new recruits who wear the same mask and same armor; 'honor' is mere memory, now, a myth stolen and rejected.

The Republic is scattered across this wasteland, like ashes. A dead remains burned by a fire no one could see or smell until it was too late. There is nothing left. The suffering grows with every day that passes, and nothing changes.

And yet, in the distance...the cry can be heard.

Far-off systems join together in small alliances to resist the Imperial invasions of their homes, knowing that they face penalty of death or extermination but refusing to cower in fear. Underground bunkers, where weapons are hoarded and survival kits passed out to fugitives from the local authorities, slowly begin to make their appearance on every major trade route, across the Inner and Outer Rims and even into Hutt Space, as safe havens where the refugees come flooding in and out. The rare, but the noble, the wealthy who dare to reach out and help those who are defenseless and alone, sacrificing far more than money in the process. Supplies can be seen smuggled to occupied planets where entire species are being systematically starved to death, carried by mercenaries who were once without a cause but were damaged in some degree and in some form by their government. Bounty hunters and other criminals whose reputations were ripped out of their hands before they could stop it, pull together with reluctance and growing rage, and unite under one common indignation, one common belief, and strive forward for vengeance against their kind without caring who gets in their way. There are the young men and women who line the streets in public protest, regardless of the consequences, refusing to die unless they are covered in the blood of the oppressor with the shout for justice on their bodies and their lips. Stories of what the Republic used to be like, how things should have been and can still be, are shared in secret from system to system, life to life, route to route. The ones with the power to bring about change, despite the dangers, move forward with one desperate cry: _"This is wrong. You cannot control us. You cannot contain us. We will fight back until it's made right again."_

And slowly, from one life to another, wings can be seen growing out of the ashes of the old Republic.

Should the current strike at the right place at the right time, perhaps they will finally take flight and rise again.

No matter how dark the night, the sun will always return.

No matter how hopeless it may seem, hope is always a hard thing to kill.

Like a phoenix, may this cry stand up from the ashes.

The rebellion approaches.


	7. Old Breed

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Seven: Old Breed_

* * *

_"Miles and miles in my bare feet  
Still can't lay me down to sleep  
If I die before I wake  
I know the Lord my soul won't take"_

_- The Civil Wars, "Barton Hollow"_

* * *

_-Six years later-_

_10 BBY_

_._

Cad Bane wiped the sweat from his brow. His boots felt heavy as he tread against the hard dirt ground leading into the town. The sand was bright, reflecting the heat of noonday, blinding his sore vision. His wide-brimmed hat formed a shadow over his eyes, a small grace against the twin suns. He balanced one hand against his holster as the other raised a cigar to his chapped, scarred lips. The shape of the building ahead of him cast a dark shadow and he squinted against the light. As the smoke from the cigar wafted around his mouth he bit down on the tip to readjust his worn poncho, which used to bear the warm golden hues of the sand at dusk, but thanks to the merciless heat of Tatooine, had lost most of its color.

The town was small and nothing significant or pretty. In fact, it was rather ugly. More or less a scab on an otherwise untouched wilderness. Other than that, it was also quiet. Its only purpose was to let the local farmers' wives shop for supplies and let their husbands get drunk on the weekends. Being such needs that were so easily met, no one bothered to put any energy into the quality of the town's appearance, and thus, it was ugly. Signs in front of the shops, bars, and businesses had worn away so much that they were unreadable, but nobody bothered to improve them, because everyone already had the names memorized. Alleyways were littered with trash and the streets were empty save for the occasional eopie or dewback or landspeeder. Occasionally, a womp rat or a Jawa would dart from one way to the other, and it was no surprise if someone decided to plug them with a laser bolt. This was the only town within two hundred miles of any more populated civilization.

Bane kept his head lowered as he approached the nearest cantina. It was a small joint, but it was connected to a route used by many smugglers, bounty hunters, spice dealers, and other scum. Seeing some fellow doing work in one of the major spaceports passing through for an afternoon was no surprise. So sometimes, when Bane felt that it would do him good to catch a rumor or two of what was going on in the rest of the galaxy, he took a couple hours out of his schedule to drop by. It beat surfing the HoloNet, anyway.

He stepped through the doorway, brushing the sand off the top of his hat. His boots and poncho were covered with dust. Bane took a quick look over the cantina. Today wasn't too much to look at. Several locals scattered around, a couple town whores doing their business in the back, and a table of young boys near the front. There were roughly a dozen of the kids, give or take three. Bane walked past them, his head still lowered. They probably did not know that as he walked past he was trying to pick up on any possible conversation between them.

Bane wondered what such clean, spoiled, fresh-looking boys were doing hanging out in a place like this.

By the time he was seated at the counter and the bartender rang up his usual nonalcoholic drink, Cad Bane had it figured out. Scanning the groups' outfits, which were topped with plates of chest and shoulder armor, as well as the cheap weapons they kept at their sides, gave it away almost immediately. Bane almost did not _want _to know what they were doing here.

Those young fellows were bounty hunters, all right. But they lacked the scars or the grime or experience to show they even knew what the hell they were getting into. As Bane watched them, one of them pulled out a large customized blaster with a barrel that was almost as long as his own forearm. He laid it on the table and it was met with lustful grins and laughter.

Well, shit.

Cad Bane looked away, grimacing.

Those kids were _greens_. Or at least, so-called by any bounty hunter worth a damn. Nowadays, being 'a bounty hunter worth a damn' meant you had been alive and well during the Clone Wars, and you made the most of that time while it was at it. Even if you came out of the war missing an arm or a leg or half your sanity, you still had the credibility to own a voice worth listening to. Not like a _green_, you ain't just walking around looking for a fight. You knew what a real fight was, anyway, and you weren't about to goddamn go looking for one. You had seen the war and you made your way through it.

Any of those bounty hunters who had survived the war knew what it meant to make the most of it. A civil war that spread across nearly all the major systems of the galaxy. Opposing authorities, crime syndicates choosing sides, and power switching from one hand to the next. All of it meant a shit-ton of dirty work had to be done. Dirty, hard work that paid _good_. And that is exactly what they did, and Bane liked to think they hadn't done such a shabby job of it.

But then the war came to an end and everyone suffered to some degree, and things changed after that.

For nine years now, a Galactic Empire had been standing where the Republic used to. This wouldn't be such a bad thing were it not for the fact that the lack of war and a stronger government authority meant the amount of work decreased considerably. Sure, there was still enough to do, but it was nothing like before.

Bounty hunters' work was worst in peacetime, and the galaxy had seen peace for almost a decade now.

To make matters worse, these days a lot of young kids were coming on the scene. Kids who had never seen the war on their doorstep and did not know what it meant to take a life for money. Kids who were bored at home with guns in their hands and decided to do something about it. And where do you think they got the idea to become bounty hunters in the first place? Naturally, from the stories told about the ones who survived the war and lived to share those stories. This bunch of bored, angry kids had little to no experience on the job and lived under the mindset that shooting a womp rat was no different than shooting a sentient even though they had never pulled a trigger. Anything they _did_ learn, they gobbled up from the hard-earned experiences any Clone War veterans had left behind.

Experiences which, thanks to the HoloNet and a multitude of media being produced these days, were becoming more or less the base of what the youngsters called 'fan followings.' These 'fan followings' in which the truth was stretched, back stories were pieced together from various sources none of which held any credibility, and successes were made legend...all put together, made any Clone War veteran a lot bigger than they were in real life. But of course, the 'fans' did not have to know that, did they?

And those who _were _offering work for bounty hunters nowadays were more than happy to take what they could get. As it were, veterans often carried the baggage of a shady reputation for not always sticking to one side during the Clone Wars...not always, but often. Apparently the Galactic Empire wasn't too keen on hiring anybody who may have been switching sides during the war, since that kind of behavior was not so profitable these days. Instead, the newcomers who modeled after their predecessors, in a twist of irony, were given all the highest-paying jobs. Not for their skill, but for their clean slates, thus leaving their role models to find whatever scraps were left on the table. And that's why they were called _greens_.

It also did not help matters when a majority of greens were, according to the Empire, 'pure.' That is, Human. Bane once heard the estimated ratio was eight-to-one in favor of Human _greens_ over non-Human, but who cared about the estimates. At that point, it did not even matter if a veteran had a clean reputation or not...if they were a non-Human species, that was it. You aren't going to get hired by the Empire unless you have a very, very fine list of connections who will clear your name, and said list came at a price only the luckiest could afford.

In a word, it was one matter for a green to steal a job because he's younger. Another matter entirely if he steals it because he's younger _and _Human. They were Bane's particular favorite, the kind he would like to roast on a spit.

Anyone who had been through the war had no respect for a green.

Which is why Bane felt a twitch in his veins when he heard a name spoken from around that table of clean, fresh kids. Not just any name, but _his _name.

"Yeah, Bane, that's right. Cad Bane. I'm telling you, it was him," someone was saying.

"You're bullshitting me. That guy hasn't been seen since the end of the war."

"That's not true. I heard that two years ago he was doing work for the Black Sun somewhere on Glee Ansom," another chimed in.

Bane looked over his shoulder, but none of them were so much as glancing in his direction. He turned back to take another sip from his drink. The bartender, who of course knew the Duros' identity, leaned forward on the counter expressing as much interest in the conversation as Bane. Both of them knew that Bane had not set foot on Glee Ansom in over twelve years.

The bartender gave Cad Bane a glance that said, _Of course I'll keep mum. Let's listen. This could be interesting._

The youngest member of the group spoke up. He was a youngling, skin and bone, with straight black hair almost covering his eyes. His clothes were middle-class. Looked like the type who glared daggers at you just because you didn't know his 'story', so-called.

"Hey, can someone tell me who this Bane guy is, anyway? I don't know what you're talking about," the youngest said.

_This _will_ be interesting, _Bane thought.

"He was the best bounty hunter during the war. After Jango Fett was killed, Cad Bane rose to the top. Back then everybody knew his name. Really he's the definition of the _old breed _if you ask me," the second speaker said, a Rodian dressed in sharp middle-class clothing from Corellia. The type who literally had no reason to become a bounty hunter other than to get away from his father's job, like being a consultant or attorney or some other comfortable career. "You heard the name Cad Bane, you'd wish you were dead. But a couple years after the war ended, the guy moved off the scene, so no one hears much of anything about him these days."

"Hell, everybody still knows his name except for the poor little shits who've been raised under a rock. Isn't that right?"

"I was just asking a question!" the black-haired fellow cried out.

Bane held back a grin at hearing himself being described as the definition of the _old breed_. Since a bunch of greens had been appearing on the bounty hunter scene, the name was something that stuck. It was used on any bounty hunter who had survived the war, a number which decreased a little more and a little faster with every year that went by. Most of them were not even _old_ at all, by general galactic standards. But to any newcomers, they were, and they were most certainly the veterans. The old breed. That was him. That was Cad Bane. He was a breed from a different era, a kind of bounty hunter slowly going extinct. Too bad that, unlike wine, his value did not increase with his age.

"You know that one Bothan guy we got our weapons from off Nal Hutta?" the Rodian piped up. "You should have seen his memorabilia collection. He had his own hat modeled off of Bane's. You know, the...that big hat he always wore. The Bothan had a bunch of old wanted posters on metal prints too. And a handmade model of one of his ships. Kind of weird."

"Hell, that ain't nothing. My older brother bought everything he could find of Jango. Day he moved out half his luggage was his Jango collection, I'm telling you," one kid groaned.

_You have got to be kidding me. So younglings these days are walking around with knock-off models of my hat. Fucking ridiculous._

"Anyway, back to what you were saying before. It must have been someone else, because I swear that was Cad Bane I gunned down on Coruscant," the first speaker continued. He was a Human ginger, with a face full of freckles. The tan line on his arms gave away what his family did for a living. His eyes were too big and bright. He leaned back in his chair, kicked his feet up on the table, and puffed out what there was of his chest. "Yup, I'd swear it was him. He looked like real shit, wearing bum clothes and drunker than a pirate. I caught him on Level Thirteen-Ten. He drew his weapon, but I drew mine quicker. I shouted at him, 'Hey, you old son of a bitch, I'm here to claim the reward on your head!' Then before he could so much as light up a deathstick, I plugged a few bolts in his stomach, and he was dead in fifteen minutes. Got a nice payment for it too, and I'm going to spend it on a brand new starfighter."

"Oh, really? Why don't you show us this new ship of yours, Marku," the Rodian snarled.

"By the end of the month, I should have it all set to go. You should have seen how the old geezer writhed on the ground. Like a worm." The ginger guffawed.

"That wasn't particularly nice of you. Right thing to do was give him a quick, clean kill so he wouldn't have to suffer. You're just a rotten asshole if you think it's funny to let someone die like that," another Human kid said, whose eyes were only slightly less bigger and brighter than the ginger's.

"If you ask me it's a bunch of bullshit. You, taking down an old breed? If _you_ could do that much, he would've been killed off years ago." This remark from one of the others was met with chimes of laughter at the ginger's tall tale.

The ginger sat up straight in his chair. He was pouting.

"Well, fine, think what you want to think, but I know it was him. I studied every recent holoimage of Bane I could find, and I never make mistakes. I know a veteran when I see one. In fact I consider myself an expert at it, I mean, any of you show me a holoimage and I can tell you in seconds which of those guys it is. Besides, no one has seen him since then, so none of you can prove it _wasn't _him," the ginger beamed.

Cad Bane let out a small snicker before taking another sip from his drink. He was grateful he had decided to take a visit on this particular day and at this particular time.

A young Kel-Dor sitting next to the ginger spoke up next.

"Whether you actually killed him or not don't matter much to me. No one knows what he's up to nowadays, so he could be washed-up or broke or died of lung cancer for all anybody knows. Those old breed put up a good fight, but give them enough time and then they can't do shit. I learned that once with a pirate who participated in a couple battles during the war...he drank himself crazy. Smoked a lot of deathsticks, too. That was an easy kill."

The black-haired kid started laughing in delight.

"Shit, Marku, why didn't you take Cad Bane's hat when you had the chance? Sure someone out there would pay a fortune to own the real thing."

"_I _would have taken his hat," said the Kel-Dor.

Hearing that just about did it for Bane. He rose from his stool and approached the group, as the bartender backed away and stealthily crept to the back of the cantina to avoid what he knew was coming. Although it was not as if Bane would have not worn his hat that day, he felt all the more grateful he brought it with today. His arms hung at his sides and he stood directly behind the ginger's seat. The others around the table glared up at him like he was a beggar who wandered in with his hat open to drop credits into. The ginger named Marku glanced behind him with a sneer and grunted,

"Do you mind? Fuck off."

Cad Bane arched an eyebrow.

"My apologies for interrupting your intellectual discussion," Bane said, tipping his hat at the group. Still, none of their facial expressions seemed to indicate they knew who he was. In fact, several of them were not even bothering to look up at him. "I just couldn't help but hear you mention you were interested in a particular hat belonging to a bounty hunter from the war."

"Yeah? What about it?" the Rodian asked, who had not even glanced up when Cad Bane approached them.

"I just happen to be in possession of the actual hat."

The ginger rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Anyone can make a knock-off and claim it's the real one. Got any proof? No? Then leave us alone, we're very busy with important stuff."

Bane snatched the back of the ginger's shirt and yanked him out of his chair. Then he slammed him down onto the table, to which everyone seated yelped. A few heads in the cantina turned, but when they saw it was only an old breed with a bunch of greens, they did not seem surprised one bit.

"There's your proof, you little fucker," Bane hissed.

The ginger thrashed and began to sputter.

"What in...you asshole..."

"You recognize this?" Bane pointed at the scar running vertically across his left eye. "Of course, now you got me wondering who that poor soul was on Level Thirteen-Ten. Probably a gas-brain like you who thought he could get along with pretending to be somebody he ain't. Either that, or he was just a hallucination from one of your wet dreams where you wield a bigger gun. You like storytelling, don't you?"

"He heard all that?" the Kel Dor whispered to someone. Bane looked at him.

"Why else do you think I hang out in a place like this? You younglings are the best entertainment I'll ever get."

"Yeah?" the ginger snapped back. "Maybe you're all talk and no—"

Without a change of expression, Bane grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and slammed his head onto the table. The ginger screamed, and Bane slammed his head again. The others backed away, a few already reaching for their weapons. Then Bane pulled him up by his shirt and broke his nose in one blow. When Bane had tossed him into the corner like a rag doll, the ginger was whimpering and cradling his head as tears and blood streamed down his face.

"Listen, _peedunkey_," Bane said to him, "the next time you want to jack off to the thought of killing some old fellow like me, keep it to yourself. Unless you want everyone to know the real size of your gun." To finish off, he kicked the ginger upside the head, knocking him out cold. Then Bane turned around and started heading out of the cantina. All the greens were staring.

"Well? What's the matter with y'all?" Bane hollered at them. "Your buddy's bleeding like a pig and you ain't doing shit to come to his defense. Some lot you are."

Right on time, Bane heard a series of strong footsteps enter from the back of the cantina. He knew who they were by the sound of their boots and clanking of armor. Pure, pearl-colored armor, faded into various shades of dirt by now. Stormtroopers.

One of the troopers approached the group of greens and the old breed, where he glanced down at the one lying unconscious on the floor. Bane clenched his fists and stood as tall and straight as he could with his bad leg, staring without so much as a blink or glance away from the trooper.

About half a company's worth of Imperial stormtroopers had been hanging around town for several weeks now. At first, when Bane had stopped in for some supplies and heard the news from some locals, he had a difficult time believing it until he saw the troopers himself. From then on it was a matter of merely talking to the right folks and doing simple math equations that spelled out why the Empire would bother sending troops out to such a desolate place as this. Bane knew that in recent years the Empire had seriously been cracking down on non-licensed selling, confiscated items, anti-Imperial sympathizing media and products, and so on. Really, the list of things that could send stormtroopers busting down your front door seemed to grow more every year, with five new subcategories slapped on as well. In this case, then, the troopers had moved in on the town for no more than the typical drill, which Bane had gotten a fairly good handle on by now. They did some looking around, asking questions, maybe picked on a few here and there, sent someone off to be questioned, and after helping themselves to a few goods they were off. The process rarely lasted more than a month or so, as Bane had seen in the other towns and small cities throughout the Outer Rim that he stopped by here and there.

A general rule solidified itself during this time: give them no reason to suspect anything of you. Just play by their standards and you'll be fine. Don't tell a lie if you're a bad liar and don't slip anything under their noses if you're not a thief. Those who did not abide by this general rule were usually the ones who were taken away for the pettiest of crimes.

Fortunately this worked well in Cad Bane's favor in one way. For decades now, half a century to be slightly more precise about it, he had been _paid _to lie and steal. And he had considered himself a professional in the art of lying and stealing for some time, now. When dealing with Imperials, such a level of experience made matters a bit more breathable. A bit. But the general rule still held its place...just let the Empire do their thing, don't stand in the way, and you'll be fine.

Bane also knew that, being of the older bounty hunter-war veteran stock, his reputation had more chances to come around back and bite than the reputation of, say, a green. Recalling this grim but inescapable fact, he wondered how soon it would occur to the greens how much they could use their assumed trust by the Imperials to their advantage and against him. Hopefully, they weren't that smart.

"Is there a problem here?" the trooper asked, beckoning his rifle down to the green still lying unconscious.

Bane stole a glance at the group of greens, then subtly flicked the side of his holster as a sign of warning. The youngest, the one with straight black hair and middle school clothes, seemed to catch on quickly to the message Bane communicated to them. _You fuck this up, and you'll wish you had the mercy to end up like your partner._

"He couldn't pay his tip," the Kel-Dor blurted out.

The others shuddered, but seemed to quickly realize they would be better off if they went along. With that, Bane looked back at the trooper with a small shrug.

"Common courtesy around here," Bane said flatly.

"Is it?" the trooper huffed. "Well, how about next time you let us take care of the common courtesies?"

"Yeah, sure thing," Bane answered.

There was a pause. A pearl helmet with almond, coal black eyes stared back at him, motionless. What was he thinking about? Bane did not realize it, but the entire cantina had fallen silent. Everyone stopped. No one tapped to the music, no one raised a glass to their lips, no one chatted or whispered between themselves. Some of the greens seemed to be holding their breath.

The trooper pointed to the Rodian and Kel-Dor.

"You two, clean this up. Everyone else, as you were, but stick around for questioning later." The trooper signaled the others to head back out into the street and began to follow them. Although the cantina remained the usual pace, Bane could hear the silent sigh of relief ripple throughout. Another potential violence averted. Then the background noise resumed to how it had been before. Bane turned to the group of greens with a small sneer.

"Why don't you all make yourselves useful for once and get your buddy on out of here?"

The Rodian and the Kel-Dor began dragging him up from the floor. Bane noticed one of the others reaching for his blaster. In reply, Bane made a _tsk _sound between his teeth.

"You don't want to be doing that. I suggest you leave."

As they left, the rest of the group lingered behind still as they glared up at the old breed standing before them.

"I don't care what your name is," the youngest snarled, "I say you're still ain't worth shit. We'll be coming back for you and you'd better be ready."

"Oh, well, I would greatly appreciate that. I'll invite some friends to watch the show."

Fuming, the greens stormed out the door. Feeling as if he had accomplished something good by at least putting that lot on the path of setting themselves straight, Bane was almost tempted to have a shot of real alcohol to celebrate. But he had to resist the temptation. These days, with the direction his health was taking, alcohol just had an all around bad idea about it. So instead of celebrating with a drink, Bane opted to head home earlier than planned. With that, he set off back to the other side of town to his landspeeder, which would take him the seventy mile ride home.

He knocked around a green and scared the shit out of over half a dozen others. Not bad for a day's work.

* * *

_A/N:_

_So after six chapters of Bane being a daddy, he finally gets to be his old badass self again - yeah!_

_He won't always be that way in this fanfic...don't worry, I'm not going to just write him walking around beating up kids...and other bounty hunters will get to be plenty badass too. But this chapter was too delightful not to write._

_It took me the better part of a year to craft this headcanon I have for the post-Clone Wars structure of the bounty hunting world. I really liked the idea of new bounty hunters coming on the scene and stirring up a certain rivalry with the older ones like Bane (and others). And I also came up with the older bounty hunters having a sort of 'fan following' with the younger generation and are more or less crafted into 'icons' (think Elvis or John Wayne sort of icon, if you will). Because many of those bounty hunters killed Jedi, and since Jedi are now hunted, that is seen as something good. So imagine teenagers from the Core Worlds carrying around comm cases, fleece blankets, and wallets with Jango's helmet design, or a quote from Aurra Sing, or the color scheme of Embo's shield-hat. Amusing, no? ;)_

_The Empire's humanocentric influence, as you can tell, is already becoming a critical element of the story. And it will be much, MUCH more in due time. I dread it._

_Review? :)_


	8. Watch As The Storm Tempts Our Sails

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Eight: Watch As The Storm Tempts Our Sails_

* * *

_"Different colours, different shades_  
_Over each mistakes were made_  
_I took the blame_  
_Directionless so plain to see_  
_A loaded gun won't set you free"_

_- Joy Division, "New Dawn Fades"_

* * *

In late afternoon on the weekends, the town was more alive. Or perhaps, another way to describe it would be 'less dead'.

A group of young and aspiring bounty hunters—some preferred to call them 'greens'—had been giving just about all the locals a headache by raising hell in the local cantina, trashing the only few rooms in the small hotel, and capturing small animals only to send them running loose so they could be shot for practice. They scared off the younglings and, according to a rumor that no one knew was completely true or not, shot an old male Twi'lek who had been hiding away in the town since the end of the war. Since it was a rarity to see the Twi'lek more than once a month, this rumor could not be confirmed as truth or lie.

The presence of the Imperial stormtroopers calmed down the greens' activities, but not by much. Then again, stormtroopers making a small settlement in town was the biggest news that had happened in that area in many years. The next time Takira was in town on the weekend, she heard that the greens had finally left. Something about one of them being arrested by the stormtroopers and the others decided to high-tail it out of there before they were next. But now it was time to put that behind her and forget about it.

It had taken long enough, but she was finally starting to make her own profit so she had the money to buy things by herself. If only she had known how many years ago now that she had picked up her interest in medicines and herbal remedies.

At this point in time, the afternoon was still young. Takira collected the credit chips from her latest customer and placed them in the pouch bag at her side. The customer left with two small jars of herbal medicine she had just purchased. Meanwhile, Takira brushed the dust off her gloves, fixed up the counter a bit, and glanced up to see what the time was.

"Hey, you there, kid," the Trandoshan store owner barked at her.

"Name's _Takira_. Arsehole," Takira snapped back.

"I'm closing early today, so the kid had best start packing up her spices and shove off. You can pay me back next time you're in town."

"I told you, I ain't selling spices. They're medicines. That's a damn big difference!" As Takira rolled her eyes at the store owner, she began collecting her jars and placing them in her portable container.

One day a week, Takira drove into town to sell her medicines at the mercantile. It was on main street so all traffic passing through couldn't miss it, and it was the only place within two hundred miles where the locals could pick up essential supplies. The mercantile had a little bit of just about every damn thing you could think of: bulk food, frozen meats, liquor and tobacco, candy, blue milk, first aid, farming tools, power paks, datatapes, holojournals, and anything else the store owner could fit on the shelves. There was a vending machine in the corner that sometimes didn't work, and a couple slot machines that had been there for so long that some of the farmers knew how to play just right so they won their credits back. On the day of the week Takira came into the mercantile, she used the booth that stood opposite the vending machines. Other locals who sold their own homemade crafts, such as cheap spices and canned fruits, used the booth on the other days of the week.

The store owner had provided Takira with this one-day-a-week slot for going on three years. Naturally, Takira's first herbal medicines were not near the quality of her current formulas. But she had long paid back her seller's fees and now her little business was starting to eke out some profit. And as she had been taught very studiously since she was ten years old, making a profit was never, ever a bad thing.

As Takira put away the last of her jars and began wiping down the booth, the store owner barked at her again.

"Hey, kid. Give me a call when those spice jars save some poor old farmer or grow back his leg or reverse his woman's miscarriage. I bet you'd make the headlines in the Mos Espa holojournal."

"Laugh all you want until you're down with fever and I'm still whistling behind the counter. Then you can go fuck yourself!" Takira hollered back.

The store owner was quite short for a Trandoshan, long past both middle age and any hope of future matrimony. What she lacked in vertical dimension, she did well to make up for horizontally. She had the kind of demeanor that made younglings cry when she asked them if they wanted some of the expired candy she could no longer sell legally. But as mean as she liked others to think her to be, the woman wouldn't hurt a fly if it landed on the back of her hand.

"Whatever. And don't let me catch you coming in too early next week. That old hag from the Chain Dunes wasn't happy one bit when you showed up before her closing time."

"That's the old hag's problem. By the way," Takira said as she hoisted up her portable container and headed for the store entrance, "any particular reason you're closing up early this week?"

The store owner cackled before coughing up something wet and old.

"I suppose that means you didn't hear the news. Shoot, kid, I thought everyone in town heard it by now."

Takira would been embarrassed were she not so curious. She spent much more time at the house than in town. In fact, there were still some familiar faces in town she did not know by name, and they had been living here a long time. Not much surprise that once again she was one of the last to hear some local news.

"Sorry I missed the buzz. What are you on about?"

"The stormtroopers are rolling out. They're moving on to Mos Gamos."

"What?" Takira cried, and she set down the container to face the Trandoshan directly. "You ain't pulling my leg, are you?"

"If I wanted to pull your leg, I'd tell you that they were coming back with a whole battalion, but why the hell would anyone believe that," she rasped. "Just heard about it this morning over caf with the gals at the repair shop. The troops who came around to check out the area are finally leaving. I heard it's because they're joining up with their battalion before moving on to Mos Gamos. But who cares, right? Having those damn white-helmets breathing down our necks almost a whole month, and now they're gone. They left less than an hour before you walked in." The store owner scratched her head and chuckled to herself a bit before adding, "Can't imagine what they'd be looking for in a Force-forsaken place like this, though."

"Yeah. Can't imagine." Takira hesitated, and wondered if that was because she was waiting for more information from the store owner about the recent news. When she realized there really wasn't much else to this story, she picked up the portable container and continued making her way out the door to where her landspeeder was parked out back. "Can't figure why that makes you want to close early," she hollered back.

"Imperials put on a nightly curfew for the town limits, if you recall. Hell, I'm going to be out late celebrating with the gals. Who's going to drop in here this time of day, anyway?"

Takira laid the container in the backseat of the speeder, and waved goodbye without glancing back. She got in the front seat, brushing off her gloves again.

The stormtroopers had finally moved out. This would be good news to share with Cad when she got back to the house. He never did like stormtroopers much.

Not that she would ever tell anybody much about it, but Takira felt proud of her landspeeder, even if it was old, incredibly rusty, and half the speed of the latest models. She had found it a couple years back, abandoned by its previous owners and half buried in a sand dune, and it might as well have been melted into scraps. Cad wasn't too amused with the thought of letting her haul in that old piece of junk, but he finally decided the landspeeder was an opportunity for Takira to test what he had taught her about mechanics. And the reward if she was successful in fixing up the thing? It would be hers to do whatever she wanted with, granted she followed the previously established rules about going out of the house. Takira had elected it was worth a try, and for eight months she spent all her spare time worked on the damn thing. Both Cad and Takira were delighted to discover that when she was finished, it actually worked. Not as good as it did when it was brand new, but better than being melted into scraps. Takira even saved enough credits to put new seats in the front. Sell five more quart-sized jars of herbs and she would have enough to put new seats in the back too, and maybe put on a new coat of paint.

By this time the afternoon was starting to dwindle into early evening. Takira estimated she had three hours of daylight left. Plenty of time to buy a couple things in town and take the scenic route back to the house. Takira left the speeder in the garage and began heading for the other side of main street. A holobook store, small and amazingly still in business what with the locals' interest in reading books, was Takira's current favorite place to drop by when she had a few minutes and credits to spare.

As Takira was walking across the unpaved street of sand, she heard rowdy laughter emerging from the alley down and behind her. When she glanced back to guess where the laughter came from, her lekku tingled with interest.

_That's funny, _she thought. _I could have sworn that sound came from the old warehouse behind the mercantile, but no one has used that place for as long as I can remember._

She stopped in her tracks. Waited to hear it again to be sure her intuition was correct.

She could already hear the things Cad had told her dozens, no scores and scores of times long before she was allowed to ride into town by herself.

_"Nobody is going to know where you're riding in from. If anybody asks you, tell them it's none of their damn business. If you see anything strange or out of the ordinary, do _not_ stick around to find out what it's about. You get out there, quickly but calmly, and don't wait for anything. Act like you own the place. Look them in the eye, and don't stutter. There are strangers who want to know what you can give to them, but you aren't going to give anything but an attitude._

_"You have more than enough of that, anyway," _he would add when she had pissed him off again.

She heard another chorus of laughter from behind the alley. There was no denying it this time. It had definitely come from the abandoned warehouse. Apparently not so abandoned after all.

Her hands began to itch. She bit her lip.

Cad always told her that her curiosity was going to get her into serious trouble one of these days... "that and the goddamn attitude," as he had been fond of saying for the past couple of years. And it's not like he did not know what he was talking about. Takira knew that much thanks to what she had been able to find out about Cad's past through fragments of his story on the HoloNet—dozens and dozens of little pieces, far from completing the full story, like a shattered mirror that reflected a distorted image of him. Almost worse than no reflection at all.

But fuck it. Curiosity and a little interest in an out-of-the-ordinary event had to be two completely different things, right?

Maybe just a quick look and then she would go home. She could always make it up to him by telling him the truth about something else she had been lying about recently.

Takira turned around and began walking towards the warehouse, aware of the fact that the closer she got to it the more she could tell that it was housing at least a couple dozen people. Suddenly the store owner's crackled howl echoed from the back exit doorway.

"Hey, dummy!" she said, "I'd stay away from that joint if I were you."

"I can take care of myself!"

"You steer clear of that warehouse, I'm warning you. You want your landspeeder to get those new seats in the back, now don't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Takira snapped with more anger than the Trandoshan normally invoked.

But gosh dammit, if there was one thing Takira could not stand in older folk, it was when they told her to_ steer clear of something_.

What was the worst thing that could come out of a rowdy bunch in a warehouse, anyway? Nothing, that was what.

"Just go on home, kid. With the white-helmet's gone, the whole town is going to be a nutcase tonight. Just go home."

"All right, all right, I'm going!" Takira yelled over her shoulder, then spun around to make it appear as if she was about to walk on back to her speeder. When the Trandoshan seemed satisfied enough, she backed up and locked the back exit. Takira smiled and resumed her walk to the warehouse.

_If it does happen to just be some drunk locals, I can always scram out before they even notice me, _she told herself. Cad had once remarked that one of Takira's abilities was speed. Once in a while she enjoyed timing herself racing from one end of the clearing to the other, just to see if she could beat her previous record. Never could be a bad thing to be quick on your feet, after all. Even if it was sort of wasted out here.

And of course, Cad would never have to know about it, either, no matter how much he insisted he had to know _everything _that happened while Takira was in town. How many times did she have to give a report of every new face she saw or every little thing people said to her? Real frustrating, it was. Not like she wouldn't know a suspicious character if she saw one. Hell, what with all Cad taught her what to do in town, _she _was probably the suspicious one.

She crept up to the door of the warehouse and held her breath, trying to listen. She heard an angry shout and flinched instinctively. For a few seconds, Takira reconsidered and wondered if she should go back to the speeder before she got caught up in something.

Forcing back a sigh of disappointment, she began to step back from the door, but stopped when she heard a word among the low, angry grumbles.

_"Imperials."_

She listened again to be sure she had heard it right.

_"Imperials. Stormtroopers. Coming back."_

Takira's breath caught in her lungs. This was it...whoever was in that warehouse knew more about the recent events. She did not think twice as she opened the door and stepped inside.

The warehouse interior was still in poor shape but not as bad as Takira had remembered it being the last time she sneaked inside here—that had been against Cad's orders too, now that she thought back on it. The lights were working and illuminated several rows of tables and chairs, all of which were occupied by who Takira perceived at first glance to be little more than locals mixed with a handful of odd strangers passing through. The table at the front was twice as high, and Takira saw a male Human standing up front and saying something that got the listeners all wound up.

"You're not hearing me!" he was yelling. "The white-helmets will be back, I'm sure of it! And when they do come back we'd all better be prepared to fight back this time."

_Fight back? What is he talking about? _Takira felt a small twinge of fear in her stomach. Was it a good idea to stick around if this group was talking about _fighting_?

The Human male who was speaking jumped down from the table. He had a holster on either hip, both of which were loaded with pistols, and pants covered with dust that cut off to his thick combat boots. The middle of his chest was exposed through his open vest, and half of his dark-haired head had been completely shaved. As Takira watched, he turned his head just enough so that she could see the reason for this haircut: a large cut which required stitching reached from the back of his head all the way to just above the other ear. Takira could not help but wonder why he hadn't just shaved everything off so he looked less than ridiculous.

"What business do Imperials have hanging around here? There's nothing!" someone else cried out. Takira followed the voice and recognized him as a local farmer named Ohn-ray. He was an older married man, with three little boys who stopped at the mercantile once a month to use up their savings at the vending machine.

"Listen, everyone. What we now know is that the Empire is setting up small bases in all the major spaceports on this planet," the male with the half-shaved head spoke up. "Once they do that, they will be able to reach small communities like ours. When they come back, they'll be searching for items that have been banned since the war. They'll be searching for any locally published holojournals that report anti-Imperial news and opinions."

"What's the big deal? So what if some of us still carry banned spices. Why would Imperials make such a fuss if a few farmers carry those?" another local hollered out.

"You don't get it! Things ain't how they were ten or twenty years ago. If they caught you with anything banned or not legally registered, they would have you executed. You _and _your family, your homestead burned to the ground," the male Human interjected. His face grew dark and he faced the crowd head on.

Ohn-ray held up his hands and rolled his eyes in a sign of resignation.

"I'm out of here. He's just trying to scare us. I know your type. You just make up stories so people will sell you their time. Well, take your schemes elsewhere. We don't need you." And Ohn-ray stormed out as everybody's gazes followed him. Before Ohn-ray had made it to the door, everybody had also noticed the green Twi'lek girl standing by, who cleared the way so Ohn-ray could leave.

"How did you get here?" someone asked her.

"Oh, just through the door. You bunch were stirring up such a racket anyone within a quarter mile could hear the whole damn thing," Takira said curtly, deciding to test the waters of their patience. Sensing a slight hostility in the air, a poisonous fume she had learned to pick up prematurely, she took a small step back and crossed her arms. "If I ain't welcome, I'd sure appreciate it if someone would spell that out for me, so I can be on my way. If not, I'd like to hear more what you're saying about the so-called white-helmets."

"Won't you tell us your name, young lady?" somebody asked, another Human male who had been standing towards the side of the room all the while.

Takira hid her hands behind her back.

"Name's Takira."

"You a local?" asked someone else.

"Yeah, I live around here." Then she quickly added, "I heard about the Imperials pulling out today. What are you talking about, that they'll be back?"

"It's all what he was just saying. Didn't you hear?" A Zabrak female with facial tattoos and an indigo ponytail spoke up.

Takira stepped forward, glancing around at the two dozen or so present inside. Judging by the way they were looking over her, Takira felt they did not view her as an intruder or a spy. Best case scenario, they would let her stay to hear the rest of their story. Worst case, they'd punish her for sneaking in. Either way, Takira thought it would not be a bad idea to stay as close as she could to the exit without looking like it.

"I heard enough. And I don't know what makes you think the Imperials would come back here," Takira said.

The young man at the front stepped down from the table and approached her. As he did, the rest of the group seemingly began to lose interest in the newcomer, but were still hinging on whatever the young man was going to say next.

"Oh, I see. You must have walked in just as that old geezer from the South Cliffs was talking."

"His name's Ohn-ray, not old geezer," Takira snapped. She tried to recall the names of his three little boys. Nice family, they were, and she had never seen Ohn-ray act so upset as he just did.

"Well, Takira, the Imperials left here for a reason. Myself and a few others are certain they'll be back because of what we've seen happen on other systems," he explained, slowly turning to address everyone else. "The Imperials have been noticing slight disarray around many systems in the Outer Rim. They think it's the aftermath of some of the recent unsuccessful uprisings. They know there are people out there who want to try again, and they want to eradicate any thoughts of rebellion. So how, you think, would the Galactic Empire pick out all the small pockets of citizens who are planning an uprising, when they are so spread out?"

Takira did not answer. When it was clear she wouldn't, the young man continued.

"The Imperials have developed a tactic to eliminating these small groups of potential rebels. First, they send out troops to occupy various territories throughout the system. Places where people gather from many miles around. They keep the troops there for roughly eight to twelve weeks, then pull out. What do you think this does?"

"Gets any rebels out of hiding, I imagine," Takira answered.

"Exactly. Once the Imperials supposedly leave, the groups come together to make plans for how they are going to resist the Empire. Then just as they're starting to get organized, _snap_! Troops are sent back in to wipe them all out so everyone else is too scared to try the same. And that's how the Empire has been killing off thousands of citizens in the Outer Rim territories for the past few years. Anyone who even supports the idea of an alternative to the Empire is put to death along with their families."

As difficult as it was, Takira knew she had to be careful of what she was going to say. She did not want them to get the idea she was spying for the Empire or anything of the sort.

"Basically, you think the troops pulled out today so you bunch could get together. Which is exactly what you're doing right now, in case you didn't notice."

"It's not like that," he interjected. "My point is that we have to act quickly _before _the troops come back. They give the citizens roughly two to four weeks to organize, so the sooner we're ready for them, the better."

"I see. Well, good luck. Hope when the troops come back they won't be _too _hard on you," Takira said, glancing over the faces of the assembled group. Most of them couldn't be much older than her. A few might pass for being over thirty standard years, but many more looked like they had to break curfew just to wind up in here.

Takira had a sinking feeling in her gut. Cad had taught her how to spot bad situations, and she couldn't figure what this was if it wasn't begging for bad. She slowly drew one foot back towards the door.

_Does this bunch of kids think they can take down Imperial stormtroopers when they come back? And why would Imperials come all the way back out here when they just left? They got to be crazy. What they're saying makes no sense._

The other Human male who had previously asked her name slowly approached. He had a haggard, worn appearance that did not match his young face and build. Takira took a step back as soon as he drew closer. Something about him seemed more threatening than the first Human male. Perhaps it was the fact that his eyes looked completely dead, the life sucked out of them. Which was the complete opposite of the first, whose eyes were wild and alive.

"I guess you didn't hear Dimitre talking earlier," he said, jabbing a thumb at the one with the half-shaved head, "but we've already seen how the troops pull back in to take out small pockets of rebels. They use either of two specific tactics to do it. Dimitre was just explaining what these are and how we can prepare for both of them."

Takira wanted to believe what he had said, but it sounded just a little too good. After all, these men had no way of knowing Imperial battle tactics unless they had survived and studied them. And judging by their appearances, it didn't seem like they were the type to survive an attack much less figure out how said attack was performed. Nevertheless, despite her growing doubts, Takira stayed to finish listening to what he had to say.

"If you're interested at all," he said, and took a few steps back which made Takira feel more comfortable again, "you can stay a little while longer, and we'll go over it some more. We still have plenty to do in just a couple weeks."

Takira watched as Dimitre, who was rubbing a hand over the shaved part of his head, returned to the front of the room. There he pulled out what looked like an Imperial blaster rifle, based on what Takira knew about weapons. The other Human male stood by, looking at Tee with a deadness in his eyes that she could not tell was either patience or apathy or a combination of both.

Suddenly, there was an itch. A strange, abrupt itch. What this group of farmer's kids were talking about, what they were planning to do. Takira had never heard it put this way before. The only talk she had heard of 'rebels' before were the little snippets of news off the HoloNet. But because they got such horrible service at the house, whatever HoloNet news they did get was no more than Imperial propaganda, so there was no way of trusting any of it to begin with. Much less this group had invited her to listen in on the rest without treating her like an outsider, as if they wanted her to be here with them. It was almost as if they had been saving a seat inside, just for her, even though that was impossible.

Above all, a sinking thought lingered in the back of Takira's mind. Just because Cad had always told her any talk of rebellion or uprising was crazy talk and would never work in the real world...maybe that didn't mean it was true. Maybe this time there was a small chance this group knew something that Cad didn't. What if they _did _know how to stop the troops from coming back, and what if it _would _work? What would that mean? Would that mean no more troops having to stop and search them at checkpoints to Bestine and other spaceports, curfew hours on the town lifted, more access to non-Imperial HoloNet news supported in the area?

Then she remembered. She had already been staying out late enough as it was. If she didn't get going back to the house soon, Cad would come back to find her. That _never_ ended well.

"Maybe next time. On the off-chance I'm still interested. And if you're meeting again later," Takira said. She had to raise her voice just slightly so he would hear her over the group beginning to chatter and discuss the topic of the weapon at the front of the room.

"Every day. Same place, same time. Just come an hour earlier next time." The young man nodded his head, but did not crack even the hint of a smile. "Ask for Alaric when you get here. And we'll go over what Dimitre already covered so you know what's going on."

"Nice meeting you, Alaric."

A lie, of course...she disliked him already. His eyes were dead. And he smelled.

On the seventy-mile ride back to the house, as darkness tempted the corners of the horizon, Takira's thoughts remained in that old warehouse, and the idea that such a ragtag group could resist Imperials within it.

By the time she was home, Takira had already come up with a story in the event that Cad asked her what kept her. Naturally, he could not know about the warehouse.


	9. Restless Heart, Old Soul, Weary Mind

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Nine: Restless Heart, Old Soul, Weary Mind_

* * *

Takira knew that Bane was returning home nine-hundred yards before he reached the house. The security beacon indicated any movement within the set radius. Anything larger than a womp rat, they would know about in seconds. When she was little the sound of the security beacon going off, alerting her of a 'friendly' speeder identification approaching, always seemed like a pleasant melody to her. A familiar tune that sing-sang: "He's home." These days, it had a slightly different set of lyrics she was still trying to figure out.

She used her teeth to pull off her gloves, which were full of wet clay. Then she rose from her chair and approached the window, her nose pressed ever so slightly against the thick, foggy glass as she waited impatiently.

It was too quiet out here. She could hear her own thoughts, and she hated being forced to listen to them. If she did not have company soon, she would go crazy.

On the table were strewn half a dozen small bowls, as well as matching spoons and cups. All were handmade from a particular clay substance Takira had learned about from reading one of the many holobooks she downloaded off the HoloNet. In these books were everything she wanted or needed to know, and on every subject she could think of. The holobook on handmade household items sparked her interest five months ago. It was most helpful, since it meant Takira could not only make these items from scratch, but if she practiced enough she might be able to sell them at the mercantile.

As Takira waited for him, turned away from the bay window and approached the shelf on the back wall above her bed. He had made seven shelves for her to store all her holobooks. In seven years, she had filled all of them, and now Takira had to store any new books underneath her bed. She picked up the holobook on handmade household items and fit it into a random place that seemed appropriate for it. Then she heard the sound of the speeder bike's engine pulling up front, and the door to the downstairs garage opening, and the bike parked almost directly below the kitchen before the engine shut off. Ten seconds later, Bane walked through the doorway using a cloth to clean his neck and forehead. Takira cleared her throat when she saw him.

"_Chobaso_," she said. "_Coona tee-tocky malia_?"

"What was that?" Bane asked, looking up in her direction. Takira could immediately tell that he had had a long day, again. A long day that reaped little reward, if any. Again.

"Can't you tell? I'm practicing my Huttese! I said, 'welcome, what took you so long?'"

"Oh. All right."

"What's the matter? Do I need more practice? What did I do wrong?" She watched him take off his duster and hang it on the hook next to the door leading to the garage. Then off went his holsters, rifle case, hat, and belt so he would be more comfortable. He dropped all of them in a special chair that always stayed in the corner of the room.

Bane's appearance had changed in the past seven years. His deep blue complexion had faded, making him appear slightly pale and colorless. The scar over his left eye had deepened, and now it left a pale, vertical line. There was a permanent darkness around his eyes, always giving off the impression that he was physically exhausted. In addition, if one looked closely, one could see faded claw marks across his forehead and brow.

"No, you're fine. I'm just not in the mood, is all." Bane wiped the last of the dust from his neck before sitting down at the table. He took a cigar from a small box in his knapsack.

Takira arched on her tiptoes, hands clasped behind her back. Any minute now he was going to notice what she had been working on since dawn. Unless he was so tired he would just fall asleep sitting up, which wouldn't be a first.

It felt like hours to her, but it was mere seconds before Bane glanced down and saw the clay bowls, spoons, and cups drying out on the table.

"You make these today?"

"Of course I did. When I get better I'm going to start selling them in town. What do you think of that?"

"Right, all right..." Bane said slowly, taking the smallest bowl and cradling it gently in one hand. "This would sell for, at most, eight to ten credits. Sell a dozen a month and you'll have your speeder looking good as new in no time."

"It's better than nothing," Takira muttered. She bit her lip, watching him.

He may have arrived home minutes ago, but he was still scarcely paying attention to her. She sat down at the other end of the table, watching as Bane looked over each item she had crafted that day. If he was impressed by her new hobby, he was not showing it.

"So, do you like them? It's my first try," Takira piped up.

"Put on a pot." Takira thought he had not heard her until he quickly added, "Yes, they're good. How long did it take?"

"Started at dawn, finished up just before you got back," she said.

Bane traced his thumb around the rim of Takira's personal favorite cup, a goblet inspired by a holoimage she had seen of one of the more impressive government buildings on Empress Teta. Smiling, she got up to make a pot of caf. For Bane, it had to be strong, black, and double the bitter. That was why she always made a separate pot for herself.

"Good work," Bane said.

"Thanks. Speaking of work, how was it today?"

Bane looked up at her as he took the cigar out of his mouth. Then he leaned back in the chair with a long sigh.

"It's a hell of a one this week. Group of moisture farmers need safe transportation across an area crawling with Tuskens. Myself and a few others are taking the job." Before Takira could ask what she always asked, Bane pulled out his datapad with the numbers. "Eighteen hundred in advance, and another twelve on completion."

Even Takira was aware that such rewards for bounty hunters' work were pathetic. By the standards of what Bane made nine years ago, anyway. She learned more than enough about that, courtesy of all the research she took upon herself through the HoloNet, none of which Bane had seemed to discover she was up too during these recent years. During the war, according to Takira's findings, he had been earning roughly ten to fifteen thousand _per week_ if you did the math, and those were the slowest periods. Of course, most of it was spent on keeping his ships, supplies, and weapons secure and in order. Still. It was the sort of money-making that allowed one to buy a new ship instead of sending it to be repaired, unless that ship was your princess or your baby. The kind of work that gave a man the leg room to let himself take a beating, bunk down in a hospital for a couple weeks, and go back to work like he had not spent a dime and there was nothing to it. Not happening anymore.

By then, Bane was halfway done with his cigar. He rose from his chair and poured himself a cup of the black, distasteful stuff. One time when Takira had tried Bane's idea of a 'good cup of caf', she tasted more grit than actual liquid. As for Bane, he had once stated that the very idea of adding sugar, blue milk, and a chocolate bar to caf was a disgrace. Takira heartily disagreed.

"By the way," she finally opted to ask, seeing little harm in bringing it up, "did you hear about the stormtroopers pulling out the other day?"

"Is that so? Where did you hear that?"

"Mercantile. Said town's going to be rowdy tonight because the troopers left."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Just to be safe, we'll both stay clear of town for a few days, in case they come back."

_Is that a strong suggestion, or a direct order? _Takira already knew the answer. Direct order. He didn't even think twice about ordering her around, now, despite her age.

"Want me to start some supper?" she asked.

"Just make some for yourself. I'll be working in the garage."

"You don't mind if I come down and work on my speeder too?"

"Course not." He sipped from his caf as he absently checked over the data records on the security computers. "You know I don't mind."

Hanging out in the garage, these days, seemed to be the only activity they did together that could be considered their 'fun.' Now that Takira was older and Bane could be gone for longer periods of time, they had fewer things they did together as compared to several years ago. Most days, it was either the garage, or having contests where they tried to see who could piss the other off the fastest. She almost missed when spending an afternoon playing card games or trying out a new recipe was 'fun' for both of them. Now, unless some productivity and/or financial profit was added to an activity, neither of them considered it worth their time. It was just as well. Although Takira would not mind having real 'fun' sometime again.

"Sure, I'll be down in a bit. I just need some fresh air first. It's too damn stuffy in here," Takira said.

"Suit yourself." He brought his cup of caf with him and shut the door behind him before going back down to the garage.

Takira opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch. It was getting late, and it would be dark soon. Takira made her way down the steps until she reached the base of the small valley in which the house had been erected. Anyone who wanted to see the house had to be closer than fifty yards, by which time it was already too late. Takira began climbing up by way of several large rocks she had specifically put in place. The heels of her boots pawed at the dry earth. After working over the table all day, the fresh air tasted quite refreshing.

By the time she had reached the top of the valley, her mind was wandering.

The landscape of a wilderness abandoned by many and forgotten by even more surrounded her on all sides. Even though Bane's favorite hobby was complaining about how much he hated it here on Tatooine, Takira couldn't find any reason to complain. It was hot and dry and sometimes miserable, certainly, but around sunrise and sunset Tatooine made up for these setbacks. Sand dunes and canyons rippled across the horizon, some so large one could see for many miles around from the top. She had never seen a large body of water before, but her holobooks had shown enough for her to know that Tatooine looked like an ocean of sand frozen in place during the middle of a violent storm. As the sun was falling, or a storm growing in the distance, the mesas, buttes, and canyons reflected hundreds of colors at once. It depending on the type of storm. Takira did not know why, but her favorite was when they appeared like large billows of fire. Flames a hundred feet high reflecting the twin suns as they either rose or fell.

Tonight the sky would be quiet, she could tell. A quiet sky to beckon in a multitude of silent, empty stars.

She had never told Bane how incredibly lonely it was out here, too.

One of these days, she was going to get out there. Mercy knows how or when, but she couldn't stay here forever. And when she did get out there, Takira could find out for herself what was beyond those canyons and dunes. She would get her nose out of those holobooks that taught her everything from how to fix a broken nose to how to count from one to a hundred in the most common languages of the galaxy to how to do a factory rest of the service droids. No more telling her how and what to think, and no more waiting for the next holobook to learn something new. Instead, she would just move to another system for another adventure to learn a new lesson.

Without anyone's help. Without anyone telling her how to do it right or how not to do it wrong. She would be all on her own, for once in her life.

These were the things she liked to think about as she looked out to the desert, imaging places she had only seen pictures of and dreaming of things she had yet to do. The sky was beautiful, and the land was beautiful, and she felt trapped in that ugly little black house more than ever.

One of these days, she'd get out.

As Takira tasted the air of growing evening, her gaze wandered past the hills and to whatever was lying out there beyond. At that moment, something on the horizon caught her eye. It appeared to be a small, dark object that stood out unnaturally on long, flat sand.

Takira hesitated and looked out again at the object. It was at least twenty miles away. If it had not made itself plain to see on the bright sand, there was no way Takira could have spotted it. She reached down into the knapsack at her side to pull out the pair of macrobinoculars she always kept on hand. Then she got down on her stomach and looked through them to get a better look.

The figure was riding a dewback, Takira could tell. It wore a long cape that covered its torso and arms down to the elbows. Something in the back of her mind suggested that there was a slight familiarity about the figure, but she could not be sure.

Most importantly, she saw that the figure was headed straight in their direction.

There was nothing else in the area they would have reason to approach. Not even to go past them. If that were the case, there were easier and safer routes to bypass. The house had deliberately been put here years ago to avoid any possible trespassers who would find it. This figure was definitely coming right for them.

Takira put away the macrobinoculars. She ran down the slope, brushing the sand off her gloves. Once inside, she made her way down to the garage as quickly as she could. As she had been expecting, she found Bane lying beneath the engine of his Sorosub courier, which he had been working on for at least a year now. It had been abandoned in a scrap pile and as soon as he found it he was determined to make some use out of it.

"Cad?"

"This damn converter doesn't want to start. I've been working on it for weeks. Fuck it."

"Cad! There's someone coming."

That made him stop. Takira waited for him to pull himself out from underneath and stand up. His hands were already black and the ash tray had three cigarette ends in it. A black streak was smeared across the front of his face. Sometimes Takira wondered if he even cared about his appearance anymore, or if he believed he had too many other things to care about. She just didn't get it.

"Where did you see it?" he asked darkly.

"About twenty miles north, and they're coming this way. Don't ask me if I'm sure of it because I know what I saw."

Takira followed him out of the garage as Bane grabbed a cloth to wipe the grime from his fingers. At the top of the stairs to the garage was the weapons storage space. Bane quickly opened it and grabbed one of five sniper rifles he always kept inside.

"Any idea who it was?"

Takira was about to add that she may have recognized the figure. But it was faulty, so she decided against it.

"No, I couldn't tell. It wasn't a Tusken. I could only see one."

"Well, whoever it is, they're not going to get any closer."

Takira could feel cold chills against her spine. Her legs were shaking a bit.

Bane had and never would reveal the location of the house to _anybody_. Not a coworker or an employer or anyone from town. If they wanted to meet him face to face, Bane gave the location of a place in town or somewhere else on Tatooine with no direct route leading back to the house. The rest of the galaxy did not even know the house existed. For this reason, Takira had always felt safe knowing she was the only other person who knew where their home was.

That is, until today.

Today, they were no longer safe. This was no longer their own little club.

To make matters worse, anybody who would bother to come looking for them out here could not possibly have good intent on their mind.

"What are we going to do? How did they find us?" she asked, following him outside, where Bane climbed the hill she had pointed to.

Bane stood up and looked Takira in the eye. He grabbed her arm and squeezed ever so slightly. It did not hurt, but it was his nonverbal signal that they had a serious matter on their hands, and no matter what she felt, she had to focus. She took a deep breath, blood pounding in her lekku.

"Listen, Tee. The first thing you're going to do is lock down the entire security system. Then transfer all the data on the computers to a disk and bring it with you. Grab your rifle and go down to the shaft below the garage. Bring a comm so I can contact you, but don't bring anything else. Stay there until I tell you it's safe." Bane paused. "If you don't hear anything from me, follow the instructions I left on the disk...you remember I showed you that."

"It's nothing, isn't it? Everything is going to be all right?" she asked, and she hoped he would say Yes. Even if saying Yes would be a lie. She could use a lie for once.

"Just do what I told you and you'll be all right," he answered.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm heading out there to see who it is, and how they found us. I might take a little while." And with that, Bane laid down on his stomach and positioned the rifle against the inside of his shoulder. He looked through the scope. Takira watched the small black object in the distance, as it slowly but surely drew nearer.

"Can you tell who it is? Do you know them?" she asked.

Bane was not answering.

"Cad, you'd better be careful out there."

Still he did not answer.

"What is it? Tell me who it is. Hey, Cad, don't ignore me! Who is it?!"

Bane set down the sniper rifle and rose to his feet. He did not so much as steal a glance at Takira as they descended the hill. He went inside with the sniper rifle and came out with his holsters, which he strapped around his waist.

"You're not talking to me!"

"Yes. I know them," he finally answered.

There was something different in his tone of voice. Like the first time they met, he sounded many miles away. His mind and his body could not be any farther apart from each other. His eyes grew faint and he sat down in a chair on the front porch, keeping his palms on both blasters at his sides.

"Takira," he said, "I want you to go inside and stay there until I tell you it's safe to come out."

"I don't know what you're saying. Tell me what's going on!" She felt as if an invisible hand had closed around her throat and was squeezing tighter with every second that passed. She hated that feeling. "Please tell me."

"If something happens I don't want you to be anywhere near it. Now go inside. I'm staying right here."

Takira stomped on the ground, hoping it would startle him out of his chair. It didn't work.

"Why can't you tell me what's going on? You always talk to me like I wouldn't understand! I'm _not _dumb."

When he had returned that afternoon, Takira had been convinced he was exhausted, but now he appeared more alert than she had seen him in years. He was leaning forward in his chair, every muscle tensed. His eyes, faint as they were, focused on the horizon with much intent. Something had him worked up and he didn't feel Takira had the right to know.

She didn't know whether to be terrified or furious or some distasteful combination of both.

Takira stepped inside, but asked one more question before she shut the door.

"You're not going to tell me who it is?"

"You'll find out soon enough anyway," Bane replied simply.

She sat on her bed with a huff.

* * *

Cad Bane was alert. He was more alert than he had been for almost seven years.

There was something about these Tatooine sands that sapped the energy out of your bones after a while. If at first you were worried about what was waiting over the next dune, you learned to expect the emptiness but not be surprised by the occasional presence of another unexpected guest. You learned to judge time by the shape and direction of your shadow instead of the hour displayed on a neon sign or which class is walking the city streets. You get so accustomed to dried sweat covering your brow and sand dancing on the back of your throat, that you begin to dread the thought of not having them with you. You like the heat of the suns because it never betrays you or your surroundings. You are grateful for the sounds of wild, vicious creatures roaming the land at night because it reminds your hearing is still intact. And over time you learn to ease your nerves so that you may conserve more energy, energy which will guide you home in the worst heat and fiercest sandstorm. You learn that alertness goes to waste when you live all alone in the middle of a desert.

This was not true anymore.

Bane did not know what was going to happen. Or how, or why. But if something were to explode in the next few minutes he did not want Tee to be anywhere near it. He may just end up having to jump in the way of it to protect her. But worse things could happen.

He brushed the rim of his hat and lit another cigarette to help ease his nerves. Now he was almost _too _alert.

By the time the suns disappeared behind the hills, and darkness swept across the desert, Bane could hear the sound of the dewback approaching the top of the hill. A small heap of cigarette ends lay at Bane's feet in the ashtray.

Bane narrowed his gaze, watching the top of the hill. His blood pumped with growing adrenaline. In the happenstance he was going to need to fight, he needed to be prepared for that at a moment's notice.

He heard the dewback stop, and the figure dismounted. Footsteps crept closer. The light from the house revealed tiny rivers of sand flowing down the side of the hill. Bane stood up and made it clear that he was fully armed by drawing both blasters and pointing them at the intruder.

The intruder had reached the bottom of the hill. Bane hollered out,

"You had better state your business quick!"

A voice penetrated the darkness.

"I come in peace, old friend." The male Kyuzo smiled faintly. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

Bane nodded in agreement. A long time, indeed.

"Good evening, Embo."

* * *

_A/N: And boom! 2/3 major canon characters have been introduced! Only 1 more to go! :)_

_The next couple chapters are going to involve a lot of Embo and Bane goodies so stay tuned, big things are about to start happening!_


	10. Reunion

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Ten: Reunion_

* * *

_"Faster than the post train_  
_Burning like a slow flame on_  
_I'll send a storm_  
_To capture your heart_  
_And bring you home"_

_-Phidel, "Storm Song"_

* * *

The figure emerged from the shadows, taking slow, precautions steps. As he stepped into the light flooding from the house, he lifted his head to look up.

Bane watched him coldly, his whole body tensed with a sudden rush of adrenaline. There was no doubt in his mind. It was Embo, all right. Although Bane immediately recognized him as soon as he saw his face and his gait, the shield-hat ultimately gave it away more than anything. It now had numerous cracks and scratches and dents Bane did not recall seeing there before.

The Kyuzo help up his hands, both of which were empty.

"Are you going to lay down your weapons, now?" Embo asked in a quiet tone.

Bane laughed curtly.

"Why don't you tell me what the hell you're doing here first?"

"I came alone. And I am unarmed." Embo hesitated. "I was not sent here to kill you, if that is what you were wondering."

"Thanks for the clarification. You still haven't told me what the hell you're doing here. I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't just to talk."

Embo took a step closer, and Bane aimed the blasters at his head.

"Take another step and it'll be your last. Don't test me."

Much to Bane's surprise, Embo began to scratch his chin and let out a healthy, hearty laugh. Bane had rarely recalled hearing the sound of Embo's laugh in all the years they had known each other, and it did not sound anything like he had expected it to. But as Bane looked him over a second, third, and fourth time, he got a pretty good idea of what nine years had done to the Kyuzo bounty hunter. First of all, save for the shield-hat, Embo's outfit had changed drastically. He now wore a black vest over a plate of armor which covered the top half of his chest. Two thick belts were wrapped around his stomach. Scabbards as long as Embo's arms hung from either hip. Embo's neck was protected with a blood-orange and bright-yellow scarf that wound around three times before tying together at the back. He wore gloves that begun just below the elbow and ended at his knuckles. His black boots were metal-toed and covered in scratches of various hues, and the knees of his pants were stained with dried mud and differing colors of blood. Bane could also not help but notice an oddly shaped burn severely disfiguring the underside of Embo's left forearm.

"I told you...I'm unarmed and alone," Embo repeated.

Bane decided there was only one way to find out if he was speaking the truth. Without looking away from the Kyuzo standing near his doorstep, Bane whistled for one of the security droids inside to come on out. Once it did, Bane sent a few instructions to him quietly enough so that the Kyuzo would not catch them. The droid promptly followed Bane's orders and checked the security system to see if there were any life forms in the vicinity besides the three of them and Embo's dewback. In addition, the droid checked for any jammed sensors or security breaches on the house, just to be certain that no immediate threat had been set in place. When the droid replied back that everything cleared out, Bane felt a bit calmer, but not by much.

"Tell me how you found this place," Bane said coldly.

"If it helps you feel better, it took me almost an entire year to find you," Embo replied. "You cover your trail very well. The only lead I had was by tracing the history of fuel purchases in the town. I discovered that someone was buying fuel less often but in larger quantities than the other farmers who only live a few miles away. After I had used enough variables to deduce that someone was you, all I had to do was calculate the distance and rough estimate of your location." When Embo had finished his explanation, he seemed a bit smug in spite of himself, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Bane was less than amused.

"And how did you know I was on Tatooine?"

"That took most of the year. I had to trace back every job you've taken for the past few years, and connect back to which system you were most likely to be at. I also cross-referenced all of the known systems where I knew you had a hideout already in place. You have a lot. Like I said, you cover your tracks well."

"I'm very interested," said Bane, "in knowing why you would take a year of your time just to find me. Somehow I'm not getting the feeling it was for a happy reunion."

"No. It wasn't. Not exactly." Embo took a step closer, opening his vest to further prove he was not armed. He even doffed his shield-hat and laid it on the ground, letting it spin in a few circles as it spiraled toward the front porch of the house. Bane noticed a large scar on the top of Embo's head, and it looked as if it had been there for several years. "I come with a business proposition for you."

"So you _did _come just to talk. I stand corrected," he said dryly.

"It's been a long time since we have last seen each other. How long has it been, now?"

"Nine years, I reckon."

"Nine years."

Bane slowly backed away. He put away both blasters but decided to keep them at his sides just in case. As he opened the door to the house, he beckoned inside, focusing on every single one of Embo's movements all the while. Every second that passed lessened Bane's thoughts that Embo posed as an actual danger to them, but only slightly. Unless Embo had changed beyond recognition in nine years, he was still the type of man who would be all right with betraying an old friend if it brought him great benefit. And that meant Bane had to be extra careful, ready to kill at a moment's notice.

"Come in," Bane said quietly.

"Thank you." Embo walked in first and had to lower his head to walk through the doorway.

Bane followed him and gestured to the kitchen table. All at once Bane was suddenly aware, on a new heightened level, of everything in the house Embo may take note of. Everything from the handmade items Takira had made, to the boots and polish he left on the floor, to the large box of holobooks in the corner. This aside from all the regular supplies and unsorted junk that collected in the corners, on top of the couch and chairs, and the walls littered with notes and charts. Long loops of thick string hung from the ceiling, from which Bane liked to tie small tools or items he might find useful from time to time and did not want to lose. They varied from nuts and bolts and old holochips to small hammers and empty disks. Some disappeared over time, but most preferred to stay and collect dust. But Bane had learned more than ever in nine years that it was better to save money than physical space, and to save everything you could because you just never knew. He watched Embo as he glanced around the house.

"Go right ahead. Sit down," Bane said.

Embo leaned his shield-hat against the wall and sat down in one of the chairs at the table. Bane poured some hot water from the sink into the caf maker and flipped the switch on. Then he, too, took off his hat and pulled up the chair across from Embo. Meanwhile, the Kyuzo had taken off his gloves for more comfort. Under the bright indoor lights, Bane could see that Embo's hands were full of dry cracks and scars. The tips had been sliced off of a few of his fingers as well, as if by a sharp tool. Embo's eyes also seemed a bit weaker, although it could easily just be the desert that had done so. But for what it was worth, and considering all that could have happened in nine years' time, Embo did not look so bad.

"Where's your anooba, by the way? Marrok, was it?" Bane asked as he listened to the hot water brewing. He stood up and searched around one of the shelves. He found two cups and a small box containing the tea bags, and he set all three in the middle of the table.

Embo absently fished through the box and selected a green tea mix. Then he glanced away.

"Marrok has been dead for almost one year, now."

"Aw. Too bad."

Embo glared up at him for a fleeting moment. Bane had never been a, so-called, 'animal lover', in fact sometimes he wondered if he actually hated them. Hence his repulsion every time Takira had begged for another pet or something she could look after until it was healed again. That was also why Bane stuck with droids. They were less messy, easier to fix when they were broken, and didn't bite your hand. Not to mention engine oil smelled far better than animal slobber. Embo, on the other hand, had always seemed to have the reverse point of view, at least he did around Bane. Bane also remembered when Embo, just for fun, had used Bane's distaste of animal fur and slobber to his own advantage by way of the anooba Marrok. These were antics which Bane had never forgiven.

Embo sighed and said distantly,

"Marrok was shot by an Imperial stormtrooper on Naboo. I was on Naboo to discuss weapons supplies with a politician who was helping fund the enlistment of our new rebel recruits. A simple meeting, no direct anti-Imperial activity. A squad of troopers was just arriving as we left. I suppose they were too young to have seen any action at that point in time, because they began shooting at Marrok for fun. I could hear them challenging and daring each other to see who would hit him first. Before I could interfere, Marrok was dead."

"How many of those stormtroopers did you kill in return?" Bane asked as he put a random tea bag in his cup.

"None. I could not risk exposing my connections to the rebel cause. I wanted to kill them, but I had no choice. So I waited until the troopers had left before I carried Marrok to a safe place where I could bury him and say goodbye."

"Ever thought about getting a new one?"

"He was not a _droid_, Bane. Not like your little techno-service counterpart, whatever his name was," Embo snapped. "You cannot simply replace them."

"Whatever. They're all the same to me, anyway."

The water was boiling. Bane stood up and walked over to the pot. He brought it back to the table and poured the water into both their cups. Embo watched him with a somewhat peculiar look on his face, but did not speak again until Bane had sat back down.

"I notice you have a limp."

Bane used a spoon to stir around his tea as he handed another spoon to Embo.

"Yeah. Had an injury that never healed quite right," Bane muttered.

"Unless you're convinced that limp makes you look tougher, you could just save yourself the trouble and get it surgically replaced."

"Of course! That wouldn't cost a credit, surgical replacements are so cheap these days. I can afford it any day. Fuck, why didn't I think of that?"

Embo snorted as he stirred his cup of tea, still watching Bane, who watched him right back.

"If I may be honest with my personal opinion..."

"Might as well if it took you a year to get here," Bane said bitterly.

"...you look more than nine years older. More like eighteen."

"Well, fuck, thanks a lot. It's been an easy nine years, too. Been living the simple and happy way."

"I can tell," Embo retorted. "You chose a decent enough place to live."

"Exactly the type of place no one would want to take the time to come looking for me. That was my reasoning. At least it worked up until a few hours ago."

"So you enjoy it here, then? It is lots of room to yourself, is it not?"

As if right on cue, Bane saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He tried not to glance back at who he knew was Takira emerging from the garage, but it was too late. His eyes flickered in her direction, and Embo noticed, and Embo, being as cautious as Bane, turned around in his chair.

The room fell silent for several moments. Then Bane spoke.

"It's all right," he said to Takira. "He just came to talk. Go back downstairs and come up when I tell you."

Takira nodded, eyes glued on Embo. She backed away to the door when she closed it behind her and went downstairs to the garage.

Embo faced Bane again. His eyes had widened and his shoulders were tensed.

"That's _her_, isn't it? The little girl I found on Ryloth."

Bane leaned back in his chair, lighting up a cigar.

"Yeah. It's her."

"What's her name?"

"None of your business. You didn't come to check on her."

"Maybe I did. You know, I had no choice but to leave her in your care all those years ago. I thought you were going to find a family to raise her, somewhere she could live safely. Then you could be on your own way."

"Bullshit. Why would I do that? I don't trust anybody to do anything remotely decent, I never did. You know that much."

"How is she?

"I said it's none of your goddamn business, but yes, she's just fine." Bane tried to decide how much he could tell Embo. He was certain there was more to Embo's visit than he knew of. And at any given second, Embo could be upon him with that shield-hat against Bane's neck and he had to be ready for that. After all, why would Embo disappear with no contact whatsoever for nine whole years, and then show up on Bane's doorstep like a prodigal son with his whole, 'hello old friend, how is every little thing? Let's catch up!' It didn't add up. Embo was not the type for idle small talk. Everything that had happened tonight and everything about to happen was for a specific purpose only one person in the house knew about, and unfortunately, that person was not Bane.

On the other hand, Embo was the only one besides Bane who knew about Tee's survival and the fact that Bane had taken her under his care. The doctor who briefly cared for Tee after they left had known that too, but he was killed by an Imperial squad a couple years after the war under suspicions that he had been harboring rogue Jedi.

Perhaps that fact alone was enough to give Embo the right to at least know how Tee was. After all, were it not for Embo, Tee would not have survived that day.

"She's safe here. That's all that matters to me."

"I just want to know if she's all right." Embo leaned forward in the chair, his elbows on the table. "Ever since that day, I had to ask myself if I made the right choice by putting her in your care. I had to wonder if that was a mistake. If I should have done it myself. Or if she would have been better off if she had not lived past that day."

Bane wanted to strangle him. Comes back nine years later and the first stuff out of his mouth is his commentary at all that happened since. Not even asking first, basing his beliefs off stuff that wasn't true. But if he did strangle Embo, he would never find out what Embo came for in the first place, a fact which Bane felt oddly intrigued to know about. If Embo went to so much trouble just to find Bane's hiding place, it must be pretty damn important business. So he could just let Embo die of asphyxiation afterward.

"Listen up. When I brought Tee here, I decided that as long as she was under my care, nothing was going to happen to her. I've taught her everything I could so she can protect herself. She's studied, she's smart, she's healthy. I've done all I know how to do."

"I never considered you trustworthy, Bane. Not for a minute. Nobody who is ever the best at his profession is a trustworthy person. At least that has been my experience."

"Let's change the subject."

"All right. Then tell me, what did you do after the war, besides look after Tee?"

"I disappeared for a while," Bane said. Embo continued sipping from his tea, but Bane did not drink his yet. He cradled the cup in his hands instead. "For about one year I didn't take any jobs. We just lived out here, staying low and fixing up the place. When my accounts began running dry I picked up work again. Though I've only been taking jobs either on this system or in the region."

"That would cut your savings considerably, I imagine."

"Guess you could say that."

Embo nodded, glancing around the house. That was when Bane presumed it was beginning to dawn on Embo as to why the house had so much clutter and was not in the best of shape. Big surprise.

"I see...so you haven't been taking any work too far away from here so the girl is safer?"

Bane rubbed one eye and held back a sigh.

"We're doing all right. Getting by just fine. If that is what you were so concerned about. And now that we're discussing income, I'm curious to know how you've been for the past nine years. Anything exciting happen to you?"

"I kept quiet for some time after the war, too. I needed a bit of peace. But I couldn't stay that way for long, and soon I was back in the business. I get along all right, too."

"It doesn't feel like nine years, does it? Twenty, maybe."

"I remember how things used to be for bounty hunters like us," Embo said quietly, sipping his tea between sentences. "Things were a lot less complicated. There were some at the top of the pile during the war, fellows like you and me. And the rest found work where we didn't bother treading. A lot of work to be found in wartime. But now our kind are just treated like a bunch of retirees. The _old breed_, they like to call us. All these new kids who don't know war are popping up from all over the place."

"Yeah, that's all cute, but I'm not as sentimental as you. You want to write poetry, keep it to yourself. You still haven't told me what this business proposition of yours is about."

"Of course, my business proposition. I just thought it couldn't hurt to catch up a little before I get down to the point."

Bane stared at Embo for a little while before letting out a small laugh.

Embo gave him a funny look.

"What did I say?" Embo asked.

"It's just, you've grown rather soft since I last saw you. You're more sentimental, with your small talk and all. You've changed. I think you've lost your edge."

At that, Embo seemed to back away. He had been about to take another sip from his tea, but instead he set it down and rose from his chair. Instinctively, Bane rose as well. Finally, he had found a small crack in Embo's armor that he could poke and prod at, something to get Embo worked up so Bane would be another step closer to finding out what was going on.

"I understand. That's how you see it," Embo said simply, clenching his fists.

Bane curled his upper lip.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? 'That's how I see it'?"

"What I mean is, you're right, Bane. I _have _changed. But not in the way you think. I am not the same man you used to know, but I have _not _lost my edge. Perhaps if I began to explain myself, you would better understand."

Bane slowly sat back down and held up his hands, which made Embo appear more comfortable and allow him to take a seat again as well.

"All right, Embo. Why don't you start explaining yourself, in that case."

* * *

In the garage, Takira tried to busy herself by working on the hydrospanner of the landspeeder. Even what few skills she had about mechanics wouldn't get her very far. Not to mention that she never liked the feel, smell, or texture of grease. She pushed herself out from under the speeder and headed to the sink to wash the grease off her hands.

She could hear voices from upstairs. One was Bane's and the other belonged to the stranger who walked in that night. Takira slapped the towel against the inside of the sink and decided to look for a holobook to occupy herself. She began to search through the holobooks she had brought down to the garage over the past few years, books she liked to read while Bane was working on repairing something and she wanted to read aloud to him or just keep him company. Most of the time they had in the garage together was spent on the long afternoons when he wasn't working. And in those times they did all their catching up and long conversations on any sort of topic. Those were the times Takira liked to do her reading, and he liked to tinker in the garage, and that was what they would do for entire afternoons sometimes. But now, as Takira browsed through the small collection of holobooks that had piled up down here, she could not find anything that grabbed her attention.

It wasn't working. There was no way she could keep herself distracted now.

What else could she even think about? Someone had found their hiding place after all these years of nobody coming even remotely close. Someone had known they were here and walked right up to their doorstop, knowing all along how Bane was going to respond.

But that wasn't all. Takira had seen something in the way the stranger _looked _at her when she went upstairs, before Bane sent her back down to the garage. It had been a very strange way to look at a person you had never met before. The stranger had looked at her as if he had been holding his breath near to the point of suffocation, and the moment their eyes met was his breath of fresh air. It was as if he had been waiting restlessly to get a glimpse of her, which did not make any sense at all.

Unless they _had _met before.

The realization was a blow to Takira. She sat down on the bottom step and cradled the tips of her lekku. Surely there was a memory in there somewhere. She knew.

The glowing amber eyes. The green complexion, the mask covering his mouth. The gloved hands that...

_Hands that pulled her out of burning wreckage and wrapped a poncho over her head, telling her that she was safe now, and that he had to go back inside but he would be back for her. The air tasted of smoke and ashes. It was just beginning to rain._

That was when she finally remembered. They _had_ seen each other, nine years ago, and it was on that day on Ryloth when she met Bane for the first time and he told her he was going to take her to a new home.

"Oh, my god. It's _him_. He was there that day. What was his name?" Of course she would not remember his name. But now she knew. The stranger upstairs was the same man who was there on that day. What could he want now, almost a decade later? What could he want from them?

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this chapter was posted a little late -_- Things happened this week that kept me away._

_But yay for old friends reuniting, right? Right! :)_


	11. Echoes Of War

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Eleven: Echoes Of War_

* * *

_"I used the deadwood to make the fire rise  
The blood of innocence burning in the skies  
I filled my cup with the rising of the sea  
And poured it out in an ocean of debris"_

_- Linkin Park, "Burning In the Skies"_

* * *

Embo relaxed in his chair as Bane patiently waited for him to begin. At least, Bane attempted to give off the impression that he was being patient.

"I suppose there is no other way to start off," Embo said at last, before folding his hands in front of him. "I am sure you have heard the talk starting up recently. Even out in the middle of nowhere in a place like this."

"Talk, what talk?"

Embo spoke slowly and carefully.

"Talk of what has been changing in the Imperial Senate. Talk of the Empire cracking down on systems who can't fight back. And, of course, talk about an uprising."

Bane leaned back in his chair. If that was how Embo wanted to _start _this conversation off, he had no idea what was going to come up next.

"You're talking about a real uprising? That's a laugh. And I don't see what—"

"I'll get there," Embo stated. "But yes, I am talking about a real uprising against the Empire. About rebellion. Surely you have heard talk about this at some point."

"Only talk I've heard is about how _successful_ previous rebellions were in the past. Naboo. Ghorman. Kamino. Should I keep going?"

"Those were not the type of uprisings I am speaking of. I am not talking about an angry mob, or not even an entire system. I'm talking about multiple systems forging an alliance, with appointed leaders and a real army. A sophisticated, organized uprising."

"You're talking about bullshit, is what you are." Bane arched an eyebrow. "You're not telling me this is already happening, are you?"

"No, I am not. But it _will _happen. That is what I am telling you."

Bane laughed as he rose from his chair and picked up the standard rifle lying on the kitchen counter. He grabbed the cleaning kit and began to oil the outside of the barrel.

"You have got to be kidding me. You come all this way just to tell me _that_?"

"I take it you do not believe a word I am saying," Embo said firmly, "but I know that there will come a time when those who wish to oppose the Empire will be more organized in their efforts. They will form a single uprising. This will be a great threat to the Empire. I do not believe we will see this formation for at least two or three more decades, but it will happen eventually."

"And just what is it that makes you so sure of this?"

"My employers."

"Your what?" Bane dropped the cleaning rag, leaving the rifle to rest between his legs. He stared at Embo from the other end of the table. His gaze went cold.

Embo was twiddling his thumbs on the table, like it were a nervous tick. His amber eyes flickered and he sounded as if he were clearing his throat.

"I work for an organized assembly of politicians, bankers, and military generals. All of whom intend to combine their skills and forces to form an organized rebellion against the Empire."

Bane did not know what to say. Was Embo pulling his leg? Was this a test? Had Embo really gotten involved with subversives? Was that what Embo meant when he said he was a changed man?

Embo couldn't really be serious about this, could he? He was working for a group of rich boys who were plotting to rise up against the Galactic Empire? If Bane had taken Embo to be a fellow of strong intellect and reasoning before, he was this close to taking it back. The idea of even attempting to overthrow such a powerful system as the Galactic Empire, first of all, was out of the question. The only way the Republic had fallen was because of internal corruption and breaking down from the inside out. Trying to do the same to the Empire from the outside in would be impossible. How Embo had gotten involved with such crazies, Bane almost didn't want to know. Second, what was Embo's logical benefit in working for subversives? Bane could only imagine that Embo was involved in dirty work of some sort, not directly part of their plans but doing something along the side. After all, the war could have easily left Embo a desperate man taking any work he could find, even if it meant being hired by an empty cause. Although it seemed unlike the Embo he knew.

All in all, Bane considered far too many variables to even come to a reasonable conclusion, at least at this point in the conversation. Still, one thing remained clear as to what Embo had come here to propose to Bane.

"If you're going to say what I think you're going to say...I'm not interested."

"Currently, this assembly is trying to build an army that will be able to attack some of the major Imperial bases throughout the galaxy. This is much easier said than done, of course."

"And where do you come into play, exactly?"

"I'm getting there. I was hired by them because they have taken interest in finding alliance with survivors of the war. They believe that using the skills war survivors developed would help them accomplish their goal. As of now, what they do have of an _army _is little more than simple citizens who have never held a weapon in their lives. Citizens who are ready to fight but do not know how. They need recruits with experience. It was around this time that they made first contact with me about a business proposition."

"What does your contract spell out?"

"My job is to supervise the training of new recruits."

Bane let out a long sigh. He paused as he could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. At first he was going to stand up and tell Takira to stay downstairs, but he had second thoughts. It could not hurt Takira to hear what they were talking about. At the least, she might get a little excited about all Embo's rebellion talk, but within a couple standard weeks it would wear off and she would forget about it completely. In fact, now that Bane considered it, it might even do Takira good to hear Bane explain to Embo why all his ideas were crazy ones.

When he could see Takira within eyesight of the kitchen, Bane nodded to let her know it was all right. Takira reached the top step and walked slowly into the room, shuffling her feet quietly so not to make any sound. Embo still heard her nonetheless, and glanced behind him once to see her again.

"That's all?" Bane said to get Embo's attention back.

"It's not as simple as I explain it. This is where my own proposition to you comes in."

Takira had a look of confusion on her face. Bane could tell it was fake. Naturally, Takira had been listening on their conversation much longer than she liked Bane to think she was. She probably had a good idea of what they were talking about already.

"You want me to help you train these recruits," Bane finally finished.

"Yes."

Silence.

Bane went back to cleaning his rifle, and while he did, he said not a word. It continued that way for seven and a half more minutes. The room fell completely silent. Nothing but the whisper of the oily rag gliding over metal, and Embo twiddling his thumbs in wait. When Bane finished, he stood up and put the rifle away. Embo and Takira exchanged quick glances at each other as Bane took his time in sitting back down and lighting a cigarette. Bane stirred his tea a bit more and sipped it, discovering that it had grown cold. He drank it anyway. Then he finally spoke up.

"No, thanks."

"'No, thanks'? You are serious, Bane?"

"Of course I'm goddamn serious. You think I want to spend the next two decades teaching younglings how to hold and fire a blaster, rig an explosion, hit a target from half a mile away, secure perimeters and take out white-helmets, and get themselves blown to bits the minute they run into combat? No, thanks. Not my style."

"The pay will be good, just as soon as—"

"Oh, _that _sounds reassuring. 'The pay will be good.' Listen, here's what I've learned. When an employer promises pay will _get_ better instead of paying the better from the start, he can't be trusted to keep his word."

Embo fell silent.

"I'll have you know that I am not in it for the money."

"Then for what?" Bane snapped.

"I am working for them because I believe the Empire will not last as long as the Emperor claims it will. I believe these men and women know what they are doing, and that with enough support they will be able to organize a real uprising. And I also believe that this is the uprising that will finally pose a true threat to the Empire."

Bane saw Takira's expression change from confusion to a mixture of shock and awe. Just as he had dreaded would happen. He saw her open her mouth and realized it was too late to hope this reunion with Embo would be a simple one.

"You mean this uprising will be for real, don't you?"

Both Bane and Embo looked in her direction when she asked the question. Bane could have sworn that Embo was smiling secretly.

"Yes, little one. They have more resources, and their political and military experience is beyond what I've seen before in other uprisings."

"You heard about Naboo, right?" Takira pressed.

"Yes. But this one will not be like the others."

"I was right," Bane suddenly said, "you _are_ sentimental. You really are confident your so-called uprising is going to be different this time, but you have no proof to show of that."

Embo stood up and faced Bane directly.

"Call it what you like, but you cannot deny what is true. What with the way things are happening, rebellion is inevitable. Nothing can stop it. It is coming. And when it does, you would do best to choose what side to fight for."

"No rebellion of any kind is going to find its way out here. That much I can guarantee you. No one would bother to bring it this far." Bane waved his half-finished cigarette at Embo. He hoped Takira would neglect to pick up that he had merely denied rebellion would find its way to their little corner of Tatooine, and not necessarily to any other region of the galaxy, or even the Outer Rim.

"You're wrong, Bane. In time, rebellion will find its way here. You may feel safe now. But your safety will not last, not even in a place this secluded. The storm is coming. When it hits, everyone in the galaxy will be affected by it in one way or another."

"Bullshit. You think the last war touched everybody? I saw entire regions who weren't phased at all by the war and were just fine when it blew over. Hell, there's some civilizations out there who still think war is going on all these years later, or had no idea there was much of a war to begin with. That's not going to change the second time around. If there even is a second time."

Embo repeated himself, stronger the next time.

"It is _coming_, Bane. Everyone must be ready. I see you as being far from ready. When the storm hits, which side will you choose?"

"That's easy. I'll choose my side."

"And I'm sure that side will win you many allies..."

"Who said I needed allies? I'm my own ally, and that's plenty for me. I'll be fine."

Embo seemed to be on the verge of frustration at that point. Bane watched with forced amusement as Embo set his cup of tea on the table with force, approached the window, and looked out to the night sky. His eyes were slits and his hands were clenched. Another long pause took place before Embo said,

"I used to think as you do. I wish it had not taken me as long to realize how wrong I was."

Bane also stood up, watching Embo carefully.

"I don't care what you used to think. It won't change my mind."

"You will not reconsider my offer?"

"Don't bet on it. I'm quite satisfied with my work right now."

"Well, then I hope it stays that way with you for a long time. Enjoy your happiness and your comfort, while it lasts." Embo picked up his hat and walked out the door.

Bane watched him go with a cold glare, swallowing down the taste of cold tea in his mouth. Having the final word before Embo left seemed like a pleasant idea, but his own anger made it difficult for him to think of anything that would set Embo off again. He began to wrestle the temptation to kill Embo right now, shoot him in the back or possibly break his legs and leave him for the Tuskens. It sure would feel good, especially since Bane had not killed anyone he personally knew for several years, now, and finding even the most minuscule excuse to kill someone close to you was a reward in of itself. He had learned that much.

Still, it seemed more fitting to let Embo go with all limbs attached. All he had taken was an hour of Bane's time and a tea bag, after all. But if Bane could not take out his anger at Embo, surely it would eventually be delivered somewhere else. At least until Embo's snarky comments had dissolved from his subconscious.

Nine years after Embo spared him from death, this was how they reunited at last. Some reunion. What a bitter disappointment. Oh, well. Only a sentimentalist would complain.

Takira stepped closer to the door, but Bane held up a hand to stop her.

"No, we should let him go. He said all he wanted to say."

"That's it?" Takira sounded incredulous. "He looks for you almost a whole year to offer you a job, and all you give back is a goddamn cup of tea?"

"It's not like that," Bane said slowly. "You can't trust him. It was just business talk, anyway."

"If you can't trust him, why are you letting him get away?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. No one knows about this place Except for him. You ain't going to shoot him or anything?"

Bane sighed and rubbed the bridge between his eyes. He never said it, but Takira knew what was on his mind. Of course, the Kyuzo was not going to tell a soul where they lived. Embo had rescued both of them nine years ago and never told a soul about it. At least, not any soul who found their way to the house. If he did not talk then, he had no reason to talk now. Their secret would be safe. That is, as long as Bane did not give Embo's 'employers' reason to track him down. That would be a most awkward re-reunion, to say the least.

"Maybe he has a point," Takira said.

"No, he's the one without a point. He wasted time coming here."

"The pay could be good. It could be good work for you."

"No, it ain't," Bane said, turning away from the doorway and heading back inside to the kitchen. "Listen, you hear any talk about any of that rebellion ideas, it's bullshit. It's not happening. Don't listen to it."

"But if you're wrong then that means..."

"I'm not wrong," he said curtly.

* * *

Takira ignored Cad's last comment and looked back out the doorway. The Kyuzo was loading up his dewback, staring at the ground with his shoulders sagging. She itched to run out and talk to him, invite him back inside. Ask questions and listen to him and Bane speak to each other as old friends again, not bitter associates in the bounty hunting business who might have once sparked a shadow of a friendship.

She turned to Cad, deciding he really needed someone to slap him for being so rude to their guest today.

"Who is he, Cad?"

"What's it to you?"

"You knew him a long time ago, didn't you? I could tell the two of you worked together before the war." As if it had not been obvious enough.

"Sure, we did. But that was like you said, a long time ago. Things aren't the same as they were back then."

"I knew him, too. Didn't I?"

"What?" His voice was cold as ice.

"I knew him, too. I've met him before, and you know it. Who is he?" The more questions she asked, the more Bane bit his tongue and tightened his jaw. She knew that whenever she said things that made him angry, he did not show it. He only raised his voice in _anger _when he wanted to be funny. When he truly was angry, he closed off from the rest of the world and shut everything else out by hiding within himself. It was just how he did it. And Takira could see the symptoms starting when his body began to curl up, cowering like a wounded animal into a corner. The angrier he was, the quieter he became.

"It doesn't matter." His voice was hushed. Now she knew she had made him very angry.

"You're not listening to me!" Takira said. "You can't just stand there and tell me I don't recognize him when I know I do!"

"_I said_, it doesn't matter. We're done speaking with him. He doesn't have anymore to tell us, and we got nothing to tell him. That's all there is to it."

"But he—"

"That's enough. Now shut it." He abruptly turned and descended the stairs to the basement, gone just like that.

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, _I'm nineteen goddamn years old, I'm not your 'little Takira flower' anymore, and I have every right to know what you know. _But at this point it wouldn't do any good. He was going to be in a sore for a while, and Takira couldn't get one word through to him until it blew over. In fact, when Cad had these moods where he shut himself away, she could get away with saying or doing pretty much anything since he would not notice it anyway. Naturally, she had always taken advantage of that before. And she did not plan to break that tradition tonight.

_Fine, then, _she decided. _You won't tell me who the Kyuzo is, I'll go ask him myself._

It sounded like a horrible idea in retrospect, but Takira didn't allow herself any second thoughts on the matter. She slipped out the door quietly and approached the Kyuzo as he tied his shield hat on the side of the dewback's saddle.

In that moment, as the Kyuzo was silhouetted against the black of the night and the glow from the interior of the house, he appeared very worn and tired, as if his soul were centuries old and had withered the youth out of his body. It sounded crazy inside her head, but when Takira looked at him, he seemed much older and wiser than anyone she had seen before. It was as if he were some sort of deity in sentient form. That was how he appeared to her.

Although, the last time she had seen this Kyuzo, she was smaller and much more frightened. So being that on that day, he held her safe in his arms as he pulled her out of the flames and comforted her, it did not surprise her that her subconscious now saw him as a deity.

The Kyuzo was just about to mount his dewback. Quickly, Takira called out to him.

"Wait! Before you leave..."

"Yes, what is it, little one?"

All at once she stopped. Takira did not know how to say it. How could she say it? That on the day that changed her life forever, she remembered him being there? That he was the person who saved her life and gave her hope and she did not even know his name? That he was the only one who could answer all the questions she wanted to know about what exactly happened that day, and all the days before?

These were questions, of course, that Bane had outright refused to answer every time. Questions she tried to find out for herself and was left with only more questions she never uncovered the answers to.

"Please tell me your name."

The Kyuzo faced her, his shield-hat on his back and one hand clasping the dewback's reins.

"My name is Embo. Don't you know who I am?"

"No."

Embo glanced back at the house.

"He told you nothing?"

"He never mentioned you at all." Takira saw the look of surprise in Embo's eyes, as if the fact that she did not so much as know his name was an insult. "But you were there, weren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"The day I was taken from Ryloth. Someone who looked just like you rescued me."

Embo's gaze dropped to the ground, but a moment later he was nodding his head.

"I was there."

"Can you tell me what else happened that day? Tell me why you rescued me and why Cad was there with you. And tell me how you and Cad knew each other from before." Takira looked at him, pleading with everything inside of her. "I need to know. Please tell me what happened."

Her spirits dropped when Embo smiled and laid a calloused, scarred hand on her shoulder with a sigh.

"I am sorry, Tee, but now is not the time or place. You must understand that he hasn't told you because he wants to protect you. There are things that happened during and before the war that should never be spoken of. It would only produce unnecessary pain."

"You don't understand. Cad hasn't told me about anything that happened before the day you found me. I've spent my life looking all over the HoloNet to find the answers...I find a news report here, a journal there. It's all just fragments. I can't put the pieces together and I know the most important parts of the story are things I could never find out by myself. I _have _to know. All I know is that he found me and took me home, and that you were there. I'm old enough now that I should know...don't you understand how much it means to me?"

"It is not my place to tell you." Embo released her shoulder and glanced back at the house again. "Do not worry. I will not be leaving the vicinity anytime soon. I did not search for this place so long only to be turned away so quickly."

He looked down and he must have seen the blatant look of disappointment on her face, because he cupped her chin said,

"Take heart, little one. I am sorry I cannot answer your questions. It is not your fault, but there are things you can never know about. It is only with your well-being in mind. You must understand that."

"Sure, I understand," Takira said, knowing how horrible of a liar she was.

"It warms my heart to see that you are doing well, Tee. That you are strong and healthy...you don't know how much that means to me. Bane will never say so, but it means a lot to him as well."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Tee. I have to leave, now. Perhaps we'll see each other again when the current wishes it. Take good care of yourself, now. Be safe." With that, he climbed atop his dewback. The last Takira saw of him that night was the shadow climbing the hill and riding off into the vast, treacherous desert.

Her mind raced.

Was he serious about the rebellion being for real this time? Was this going to be a rebellion the Empire saw as a true threat? It didn't sound real at all. It couldn't be. Not with everything Cad had told her about...

_No. _It all added up. First the group in the warehouse who believed they knew how to fight back. Now the Kyuzo talking of a rebellion that will work this time. It could _not _be a coincidence. As Takira thought on this, she felt her pulse quicken. So this meant there was a possibility that the Kyuzo as well as the others in town knew something she and Cad did not know about the Empire. They knew how to use the Empire's systems and tactics to their own advantage, and they were not just waiting for a chance to put this into action, but they were acting this very minute. It was not off in the distant future, as Cad had said any real rebellion would be, if ever. It was_ right now_. It was _here_. And the Kyuzo who rescued her nine years ago was a part of it.

Takira walked back to the house and tried to occupy herself by doing the usual chores. She knew that if Cad had gone downstairs in such a huff it meant he was going to find a project to work on down there and he wouldn't come back up until the next morning at the latest. For the first time, this didn't bother her. Now she had plenty of time to think to herself and plan what she was going to do next.

Rebellion. _Rebellion. _The word tasted ugly, vicious, and cruel on her tongue, as it had for years. And yet, as Takira began her chores by lighting the lamps around the house and heading to her bed to organize her collection, she realized that this was not what the word meant in the least bit. That little ragtag group in town was not plotting an ugly, vicious, or cruel endeavor. The Kyuzo did not search for them for nearly a year just to drag them into something so horrible as Takira associated the word with. Their definition of _rebellion _was not the one Takira had had all this time.

Or rather, as her thoughts dwindled longer on this matter, the definition that Cad wanted her to have all this time. He had wanted her to believe rebellion was a horrible idea. Takira saw that now. He was wrong, and he passed his wrong thinking down to her.

The Kyuzo, and those young men and women, whether or not they were in relations or even knew the other existed, believed in a whole different idea of _rebellion_. They believed it was a real and necessary cause noble enough to become a part of. It was a step of defiance against a corrupted system, an acted upon confidence that a new system could replace it that would make things new again.

Hope, Takira realized, was what they believed rebellion meant. Hope that the Galactic Empire would not last for a thousand years as the Emperor once predicted. Hope that the citizens could rise up and overthrow a system that said such was impossible. Hope that the ensuing chaos and violence would be worth what it brought back in the end.

Hope. Now that was a word that tasted quite differently.

Takira's breaths had quickened by then, and she found it difficult to focus on the task at hand. Her large collection of trinkets was strewn out in front of her, and she normally would have taken pride in marveling at all of it. She couldn't tonight. Instead, her mind lingered on with the rebellion that was beginning right in their own town seventy miles away and with the Kyuzo bounty hunter named Embo. However small such beginnings were, they were still beginnings. Things just might start changing for the better in their little corner of the Outer Rim, and it was happening right in front of her.

_Rebellion. _Now the word sounded energizing, exciting.

Takira made her decision. She was going to go back to the old warehouse and join them, helping the cause in any way she could. If they were going to resist the returning troops, she wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to contribute to all those ideas the Kyuzo talked about that evening, instead of sitting around waiting for the galaxy to change without their assistance. She would go back and help them.

Now tomorrow could never come fast enough. Takira wanted to go there _now_. The thought itself was too incredible to let her focus. She looked down at her collection in front of her, which had grown immensely in nine years. She had gadgets, small objects ranging from jewelry to playing cards to counterfeit credit chips, small pieces and parts from broken down items she sometimes found out in the sand dunes. She even had a growing collection of small fabric samples which she hoped to someday use to make more clothes for herself.

For nine years she had done nothing but collect pieces of the outside world. Pieces left behind by other beings as they walked through life and had adventures together. Pieces each containing their own story that would never be heard. She had been gathering bits of their stories hoping to gain a story of her own, never thinking that she gained nothing to leave behind for others to find. She had little glimpses here and there of an adventure waiting for her, and she kept it all in a box to look at, as if they were the real thing. That was what she collected. For nine years.

Without thinking about it, Takira grabbed the nearest drape off the edge of her bed and covered her collection with it so she would not have to look down at it any longer. The drape, she discovered with a jolt, was the old poncho given to her nine years back by the Kyuzo when it began to rain that day. It had lost its smell of smoke a long time ago. Not that it was a smell Takira could ever forget.

But she had had enough excitement for one day. Takira tried to settle herself down, but found it difficult. She could only be assured that tomorrow would bring even more of the energy she felt tonight, as her thoughts dwelt on the idea of fighting back the Empire.

Would she try to find the Kyuzo and invite him back to the house? Would she just make a break for the warehouse? Would she invite the Kyuzo to come with her to the warehouse?

Who cared? By morning, she would know what to do.

Before Takira fell asleep, she had one last sinking feeling. If she was going to help them fight back the Imperial troops, she would have to convince Cad.

That was easier said than done, to put it mildly. Especially considering his reaction to the Kyuzo's business proposal. Takira may still be in the dark about what exactly went on while Cad was in the war and even what happened before that. But she did know he was not going to approve if she was out helping a bunch of young men and women fighting back troops. Takira knew exactly how he would react if he saw her in any sort of danger, and said reaction was rather unpleasant.

Helping them out, without letting Cad know about it, seemed to be the only option left. But Takira did not even want to think about how he would react, should he find out.

_Sleep now. Figure it out tomorrow._

* * *

_A/N: If I were any less of a sadistic author, I would make this less discreet to save you the nervous perspiring and fretting. But I am sure all of you are beginning to get a good idea of where this is going..._

_Don't worry, all may not be as you expect it to._

_Boba Fett is going to be in the next chapter, so stay tuned! The plot thickens._


	12. Dead Man Walking

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Twelve: Dead Man Walking_

* * *

_"A bounty hunter must always be ready to go anywhere and face any danger."_

_- from the precepts of Jango Fett's Bounty Hunter code_

* * *

_Inner Rim Territories - Vaklin system - Vaklin Zenith Imperial Command Center_

_._

Boba Fett took off his gauntlet, helmet, and belt and laid them in the tray in front of him. He remained focused on the eyes of the Imperial sergeant in front of him as he did so. The sergeant had her hands on her hips and her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Boba contemplated that if he were not in a high-security Imperial headquarters unarmed and under surveillance, he may have allowed himself the pleasure of admiring the sergeant's appearance by whichever direction his gaze chose. But as it were, it wouldn't be worth a fist to the jaw, and far worse.

"When you have taken off all your armor, you may enter the room. You will have to be in there for roughly one to two hours," the sergeant said in a flat tone.

"Explain to me why this is mandatory again."

"It is natural that the admiral sends anyone under contract with the Empire through a screening process. We need to evaluate your physical and psychological strengths, limitations, pressure points. Weakness, of course, is not optional."

"I see. You want to know how much I can take." Boba finished taking off his armor and stood straight up. Maybe it was a little too much skin he was comfortable with exposing in front of a total stranger. But of course, there were far worse possibilities for a stranger than a young female Imperial officer. "So my track record I gave to the admiral wasn't enough for my name to be on the contract."

The sergeant smiled smugly. She had probably been told the same thing multiple times.

"I am simply following orders. Besides, a falsified track record is not so difficult to create, as you might be aware of. Now step into the room, if you please."

Boba felt a little disgusted, as he allowed the sergeant to fasten small electrical sensors to his chest, arms, back, and thighs. Granted, at his age, he was fairly young in the field. Hell, he was still considered quite underaged to be a bounty hunter, even all these years later. But anyone who knew Boba Fett also knew that he had been working professionally since before the end of the war, and in the past nine years his skill and experience levels had multiplied immensely.

As such, offense still tingled inside him when a potential employer underestimated him merely for his age. Comparing him to all the new recruits flooding into the field since the end of the war who thought they had what it took simply because they had 'founded' the growing fan-bases of hunters who survived and thrived during the war. Youth who believed knowledge of their 'role models' would carry with them into the real game. To hell with them. They had no idea what they were doing.

_I'll show them, just like I have always done. Whatever is going to happen in this room, I'll show them that any perceptions they have about me are _wrong_. I'll prove how strong I really am._

Boba stepped into the room, and the door hissed shut behind him. It was pitch black; he could not see any farther than his own hand in front of him. Cold air rose from the air shafts on the floor, and the heavy reek of disinfectant clouded around him.

_One to two hours, huh? Let's see what they can do to me in two hours._

Suddenly, the room was illuminated with blaring red colors. Boba could see various equipment, no longer used of course, and large pipes traveling along the walls and from floor to ceiling. Beneath the air shafts, he saw what appeared to be an electrical spark, which crackled and gave off smoke. For a moment the lights flickered. At first Boba wondered why there was a malfunction so quickly, but then he remembered.

_It's all part of the simulation. They're testing my resolve to see how much I can handle. This shouldn't be too hard. The fact that I already know it's a simulation makes the whole thing more than not a waste of time, come to think of it._

Just as the sparks began to die down, a deafening noise filled the room. High emergency alarms flashing along with the red lights. Boba had heard those alarms several times before, although he did feel a bit startled. He held his head high as he walked from one end of the room to the other, as the alarms continued blaring around him. The floor vibrated, as if from an explosion. Then the room was pitch black again. In the darkness, Boba smirked.

_Really? This is the best they can do? I've seen worse in a younglings' haunted house._

That was when the temperature in the room dropped, all at once. The rush chilled Boba to the bone, but he managed to take in another icy breath. When the lights flashed on again, this time blinding white, he could not see for a few moments. A droid's voice blasted through the wall speakers.

"_The data computer on the north wall is disconnected to the power source. Reconnect it in under ten minutes_."

Boba nodded and approached the wall. When he located the data computer, he wanted to laugh. The job appeared almost too easy: an assortment of wires with the power source right next to the computer. A youngling could do it, as long as they knew the difference between red wire and blue wire. Boba was about to set to work when the lights went out again.

"_Oh, and you will not be able to do this by sight_."

All right, maybe it wouldn't be so easy. He could live with that. Boba got on his knees and reached for the wires. He began to feel warm...uncomfortably warm. The room was getting hotter. In seconds, sweat was trickling down the back of Boba's neck and down his forehead. It hurt to breathe. Boba coughed, trying to see the wires in front of him.

"_Better hurry up. The clock is ticking_."

_I see. Want to see if I can get the job done under pressure?_

As soon as Boba thought it, he heard another loud sound completely different from the alarms. Instead, it was a scream. An ear-piercing, shrill scream only out of the greatest and most horrified terror. Boba winced. The scream did not stop, but continued on, seemingly louder by the second. His teeth ached as Boba clenched his jaw.

He had heard such a scream before. In fact, as it filled the room, echoing off the walls and bouncing back at him over and over, Boba saw their faces flash in front of him. The lives he had taken, the collateral damage suffered throughout the years. The pleading in their eyes before he shot them through the heart. The resolve to beg for mercy with their final breath.

Boba shook himself and snatched what he believed was the red wire.

_No...I have to focus. I'm running out of time. I have to show them I can _focus_._

The scream grew even louder. By then, Boba's head hurt and he wanted to claw at his ears if only to be free of that terrible, painful shrieking. Was it even a real scream? Did they record somebody's actual scream? Did they scream _for this long_? He could only imagine why.

_No, focus, you idiot!_

The lights turned red again, and the scream stopped as quickly as it had started, only for the droid's voice to ring through.

"_The clock is ticking. You mustn't be late_."

Boba hurried to finish his work. In six minutes, he had the data computer hooked up again.

"_Walk to the center of the room and lower yourself to your knees. Tilt your head up so that you are looking at the ceiling, and do not move."_

Boba obeyed the invisible droid's orders, knowing something awful was about to happen. He was right. The sensors on his body began to tingle, emitting a small but painful electrical shock through his body. By then, sweat was dripping down Boba's neck and shoulders, which only aggravated the shock.

A cold drop of water struck his forehead It felt like ice. Boba shuddered.

He had heard of this trick. He grit his teeth as the second drop fell.

_What am I hearing? Do I recognize that voice?_

It had to be some chemical in the air, a toxin to pollute the mind...that had to be it. And yet, Boba could swear a voice, somewhere in that room, had called out to him. Someone said his name and told him he had to let it stop, that he had to give up.

_Father? Is that you? Why are you calling me?_

_No, Boba, don't be stupid. You're just imagining things. There's no way they could...no, that _is _Dad's voice. Just as clear as I heard it all those years ago. What's he saying? "You have to stop this, son. You have to give up. They're going to tear you apart. They're going to rip the humanity out of you. Please, give up. Please stop."_

_Just a chemical. Ignore it...ignore it._

_Gods, no, not the electrical shocks again. They're stronger this time. More cold drops on my forehead...why does it feel like my head is caving in? It's so hot in here, it's worse than any other place. Why is it so hot? Didn't it used to be cold? I want to lower my head, but they told me not to. I hate the water...I hate it, I want it to stop!_

_"You have to stop this, son. You have to give up."_

_No, I won't. I won't! I can't give up! I have to show them!_

Boba realized he tasted his own blood. In his effort to stop from making a sound, he had bitten through his bottom lip. He shut his eyes for a second and then opened them again. He could see another drop forming on the ceiling about to drip down on him, and he fought the urge to wince.

_Not another one. Please not another. My head is going to cave in. Stop. Stop!_

Another course of electrical shocks ran through his body. The droid's voice faintly ordered Boba to stand up and walk along all four walls of the room. But when Boba rose, he could hardly feel his legs and he had trouble taking the first several steps. The lights were blinding white, flashing red with the alarms again, black, white, black, and red again. Always, through the speakers, a sound choked the room...sometimes the droid telling Boba what to do in a tone that suggested he did not expect Boba could do it, other times the rumble of an approaching windstorm or a high-pitched siren or animal cry...but always somehow, in a place Boba could not reach, the voice of Jango Fett whispered that he should stop, that he should give up.

_No, I can't give up! I can hardly breathe, my head is killing me. What time is it? How long have I been here? Is this ever going to stop? Am I going to be locked up in this hellish place for the rest of my life?_

And he walked, sometimes stumbling and sometimes running, with one hand on the wall and the other guiding him along. When it was over, the room returned its original form, silent and cold and black, when the door hissed open.

"You can come out, now," said the sergeant.

Boba limped. Every limb ached, his feet were numb with cold, and he had trouble breathing.

_Dad? Are you still in there? Can I come get you? Why did you tell me to stop and give up? Why...Dad, why could I hear only your voice?_

He shook himself, rubbing his soaked forehead.

"So...how did I do?" he asked, more breathlessly than he would have preferred.

"Better than most. You were in there for just under two hours. Some don't even last the first thirty minutes."

"A good sign, I'm guessing."

"I would be perplexed if the admiral refused your contract, is how I would put it."

"Then that is good news." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to mentally erase the past two hours out of his mind. It would do him well not to dwell on the Empire's 'screening' process they put him through. Better to pretend that none of it had ever happened.

* * *

_Outer Rim, Tatooine system – approximately 1200 miles from Bestine_

_._

Takira woke up having less than two hours of sleep, yet she felt that she had the same amount of energy as she would if she had had a full night's rest. She smelled a full pot of caf brewing, and she quickly dressed and made her way to the kitchen where she began pulling out some ingredients to make breakfast. As she worked, she heard Cad walk in from his room and sit down at the table. When she uttered a "good morning", he only grunted in reply, which Takira immediately knew was a sign that he had been in the garage all night.

"Cad, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," he muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

"Why did you turn him down last night?"

He looked at her as if the question had been a rude and uncalled for start to his day. Takira had expected as much.

"I thought I already explained."

"No. You didn't explain shit." Takira handed him a full cup of caf before sitting down across from him at the table, her hands folded in front of her. Her words seemed to get his attention, but not to the degree Takira had been hoping for. "You said we can't trust him, but you're all right with him riding off knowing exactly where we are."

"It's not that kind of trust. He won't go around telling anybody where we are. But if there were some holes in his business arrangement I doubt he would've let us on about them," he said absently.

Takira frowned. His argument was just running in circles now.

"And maybe I spent the night planning how to make sure he _doesn't_ go around telling anybody, either."

"You don't mean—" Takira felt sick. "No, Cad, you wouldn't go and kill him."

"I don't want to."

"You can't do that. What do you have against him, anyway? It's not something that happened in the war, is it?"

"Why would you think that? Of course it ain't." He got up from the table and stood in front of the bay window, as he would do whenever he did not want to look Takira in the eye.

"Why _wouldn't _I think that? I don't know one damn thing about the war because you won't ever tell me. You never tell me shit. And then you act surprised when I start asking questions."

Finally, she seemed to gain his full attention. Cad's eyes went cold and he looked down at her from where he was standing. He didn't look happy, at all. In fact he looked itching to break somebody's neck.

For Takira, that was good news. It meant that perhaps she could get to the bottom of what was really happening, for once.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, you know. It's been almost ten years. I'm nineteen. I have the right to know everything you do." Takira waited, then added, "So why won't you tell me? I know there's more to the Kyuzo, and I should know what's going on. Just tell me."

"That's enough, Tee." His tone was flat, emotionless.

"You're not listening to me! Please, just this once, listen. I want to know why you hate talk about rebellion so much. What's so bad about it?"

His eyes flashed with anger. Good. She had struck something deep.

"Maybe he is doing something dangerous and crazy by joining a rebellion. But at least he's doing something besides sitting around wasting away," she finished.

"What are you saying? You think he's better off because he's going to get himself killed?"

"You don't know that," Takira said, standing up so she would seem more intimidating. She wanted him to feel something bad. She needed him to. How else could she get through to him after all this time he had been silent? Meanwhile, Cad did not so much as flinch or blink an eye.

"You listen to me," Cad said. "He's wasting his time. He's going to get himself killed. Rebellion isn't as romantic as he wanted you to think it is. Rebellion means war, and you're steering clear of any kind of war. Understand me?"

"You know what else war could mean?" she pressed. "It could mean we finally take a stand against the Empire. Maybe it'll mean we don't have to worry about troopers coming out here and finding us anymore. We could have a whole new life if the Empire wasn't here."

"Tee, listen—"

"No, _no_, I won't listen. You're the one who needs to listen! Why can't we go out there and help the rebellion? It could be different this time. Things could change. You don't want that? What's so bad about it?"

"Bad. Bad, about what?"

"What in the name of the Force is so bad about getting out of this place and fighting back?"

She felt a jolt of surprise when he cracked a weak half-smile.

"You want to know what's bad about it," he said.

"You ain't going to tell me, are you? Just like you won't tell me anything else! Maybe you think I'm too young to understand, but how am I supposed to be able to understand anything if I can't—"

"Because," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder again, "you have to trust me when I say you don't want to know."

It was impossible. No, _he _was impossible. She was never going to get through to him. He was never going to change.

Takira felt her hands tremble as her vision reddened. She quickly tried to think of a time he had provided her with a straight answer to a question she asked for her own sake, but no memories came to mind. Takira shook his hand off of her, and she backed away towards the door. Despite knowing that doing so would give him the last word in the argument, she turned and ran out the door.

Why, she wondered, why did he have to be so unfair to her? Why all the secrets? First he refused to tell her anything about the Kyuzo, and now he was holding back his reasoning behind his anti-rebellion grudges. Was he going to keep secrets from her until he had decided she was all grown up? Until she was old enough to live in her own house someplace else? Until he was on his deathbed? What was it going to take for him to finally break through to her?

Or maybe he just never planned to tell her shit. Takira felt a long sigh put an ache in her chest. Of course he was never going to tell her. He just wanted her to spend the rest of her life in a cooped up little shack in the middle of goddamn nowhere with only the farmers and Tuskens as neighbors, and never do more with her life than keep food on her own table.

After all, that's all there was to life, wasn't it? Keeping food on the table. Fighting to live day in and day out on repeat. Letting the rest of the galaxy fuck itself up and figure things out on its own, while the rest just hide away in their little corners to pretend nothing was the matter.

That was what _he_ believed, anyway.

* * *

Cad Bane needed time to think to himself. So he did what he always did when he needed to think. He put on his hat, grabbed his blaster rifle, and left the house to wander off into the wilderness on his own. For nine years now this had become a sort of habit of his, and he taught himself how to mentally benefit from walks across the desert to various natural land points he had established so he would not lose his way. It was a great discipline to the body and mind, but when you were out here enough times with nothing but the sand and the suns and your rifle as companions to your thoughts, over time it started to work something good after all.

Bane appreciated the odd balance that being out here brought to him. It was a combination of keeping up an awareness of his surroundings and not giving a damn about his surroundings in the least bit. Certainly, he went out here with the intentions of being alone, and there was nobody else's skin to worry about for a few small minutes. At the same time, he had to keep his eyes open for dangerous animals, Tuskens, or whatever else might be out there. Thus, he had a reason to raise his weapon and a reason to put it away. That was a feeling he had not had anyplace else, but as things went here it was in the middle of the shithole that was Tatooine.

This time, Bane's ride out to the desert was going to give him plenty to mull over and chew on. The first and most important matter was that of Embo. Bane had not been lying when he suggested to Takira that he might make plans to kill Embo. After all, it made sense; Embo was now the only sentient in the galaxy with the power to tell anybody the location of their hideout. And while he knew with all certainty that Embo wouldn't squeal for the fun of it, he also knew that pressure—whether brought on by financial troubles, emotional compromise, or physical agony—made the mouth capable of spilling all kinds of information.

Bane couldn't risk it. He had to make sure Embo wasn't going to share the information with anybody. And if that meant Bane had to eliminate the old partner who saved his life without expecting anything in payback, so be it.

On the other hand, while he was thinking about the stuff lurking in Embo's head...it might not be a bad idea to find out how Embo came to meet them. It also couldn't hurt to get a few tidbits on how Embo got involved with the so-called group of rebels who were thinking they could put a dent in the Galactic Empire, and whatever Embo was planning to do if he didn't get Bane to join their business contract. Knowing how Embo came to think of him as someone to offer his business proposition to could prove to be useful information that would come in handy.

As Bane thought this over, he lit a cigar and slung the rifle over his shoulder. He was nearing close to a smaller mesa that shaped one side of the desert, which he used as one of his land points to mark where he was going. The mesa cut off at the clearing, opening up to the vast land of hills and canyons stretching for hundreds of miles in any direction.

Bane felt a bit better now that he had a clear idea of how to handle the Embo incident, if only a slightly clear idea. At least he had a reason to head into town that day.

Then his mind shifted to Takira and his spirits sank.

He had been dreading when this sort of thing would happen. His little Takira flower wasn't so little anymore. She was no longer a bud...now, she had finally begun to blossom.

When Takira was ten or eleven, he picked up that she had a strong streak of wanting to ask all the questions and not liking it too much when she didn't get an answer. It was a slight concern of his, considering how Takira's curiosity could eventually get her into trouble. But at that time she was more interested in knowing how engines worked, what made flowers grow, why some star systems had two suns instead of one. Not like now when she wanted to know what he did during the war for work. Not to say that she was unaware of the fact that he was a bounty hunter and that bounty hunters killed people for money. But that was all she knew, and for Bane that was more than enough. There were plenty of details she would be better off not knowing.

If it were his way, Takira would never have to know about any of that. She could go on with her life without bearing the burden of knowledge she had no reason to bear anyway. And for the most part these nine years had remained quiet in that regard. Other than the occasional small question that could go by unanswered, Takira asked many more things about the present and future over the past.

Nevertheless, just as Bane dreaded, the day had come when that changed.

But of course, thanks to Embo, it wasn't enough. Now she was demanding a full explanation as to why supporting a second civil war was a bad idea. As if she couldn't take his word for it, knowing full well what he had been through nine years ago.

In his frustration, Bane looked around for some small animal wandering by to practice his sniper skills on. It would have been preferable to break something with his own two hands. But you can't have everything.

She wanted to understand, but how could she? That was the problem. There was no way Takira could understand without knowing those things for herself, and Bane knew that she would be happier if she did not know them. If only he could just go out and say that. Still, Takira figured that since she was just about all grown up now, there was no information she couldn't handle.

How could she know? How could he tell her about the things he had seen and done during the last war? How could he tell her that he had been paid to massacre men, women, and children and he did not regret any bit of it? How could he let her know that the credits she had been raised and standing on were his reward for a multiple list of atrocities he had been perfectly all right with committing? How could Takira know what he had done?

How could she know what the last civil war had cost, and what any new civil war would cost as well? Of all the things Bane wanted to shelter her from, first and foremost was the reality of war. The first ten years of her life had been more than enough already for a little girl. Takira could never know what war was really like...how it ripped apart bodies and minds, traded friendship for credits and security, stole the children and sacrificed the innocents…how no one could come out of war without being irreversibly fucked up beyond recognition in the process. She had to be safe from that.

And now here came along Embo talking about rebellion like it was something that could be done overnight and without the cost of real war. Bullshit. Now Takira was getting all these wrong ideas and Bane had to put a stop to it.

First things first. He had to find Embo and get down to the bottom of matters. Then he could try talking to Takira. It was not going to be easy. But that was what he got for having a teenager in the house.

Imagine that. Bane could hear his own self from twelve or so years ago laughing at the prospect, yet here he was and he had a teenager in his own house to deal with.

She just had to be safe. That's all there was to it. He couldn't protect her from all pain, suffering, and harm since those came even to the most protected, but he could see that Takira had a better chance than the average. He could do that much.

And he _would_ do that much no matter what, even if it cost him his life.

* * *

_A/N: And another late chapter -_- Blame college midterms! Argh!_

_Anywho, Boba Fett has been a very fascinating character to write. I love his story, and I have loved figuring out how to weave in his how-I-became-the-best-bounty-hunter-in-the-galaxy escapade with that of Bane, Takira, and Embo's story._

_Like I have already warned you, you might know where this is going and if you do, you should be both worried and excited because more plot twists are coming up!_

_Hopefully the next chapter will be up on next Friday as always._


	13. Imperial Shadow

_"Wake the Ashes"_

_Chapter Thirteen: Imperial Shadow_

* * *

_"Do you hear the lion roar  
Awake O sleeper  
Stand with me, we'll fight the war  
Awake O sleeper  
Your suffering will come again  
And never fall away"_

_- The Brothers Bright, "Awake O Sleeper"_

* * *

When Cad Bane climbed off his speeder and took view of the three figures standing off a short distance, he felt a twinge of annoyance inside him. His expression soured as he stuck his pistols in their holsters and grabbed his rifle. He walked towards them without a sound save for his boots treading the hard ground.

What he saw that made him feel annoyed was the blatant fact that he would not be working this job alone, as he had been hoping for. Waiting for him, or seemingly so, were two skinny, fresh-looking Humans, a boy and a girl. There was also a smaller Togrutan boy standing behind them. The Human boy was holding a blaster rifle accidentally pointed at the other's foot, while the Human girl had stuck an unlit cigar in her mouth and was sucking on it like a lollipop. They watched Bane approach with disapproving looks, as if to silently say "You can't walk any faster?"

Greens. Of course. He had to be stuck with greens on a day like this. Damn it.

Oh, well. All there was to do now was get it over it and earn his payment.

Bane joined the three greens, discovering rather quickly that the two Humans could not be over seventeen standard years in age, while the Togrutan boy looked closer to twelve standard years. They were all just children. It made him feel ancient, and as such, it also placed him in an even more bitter state of mind.

"Looks like you're the old breed we got stuck with," the female Human said. "They said you would be coming."

"Watch it, youngling. More talk like that and I'll leave you for the Tuskens." He stormed off and approached the others, who were waiting a bit farther away from where the bounty hunters had assembled. Sure enough, the report had been accurate. Bane counted three heavy transports of goods and supplies, plus six farmers and each of their families with a transport to themselves. It was quite the sizable caravan, he had to admit.

Bane had to wonder what he was getting himself into when he accepted this job. On the surface, it wasn't much: just helping a group of farmers get their supplies across the Jundland Wastes protecting them from scavengers and Tuskens. Bane accepted the job because the farmers were willing to pay them well, not to mention Bane had killed off enough Tuskens himself to feel quite prepared doing it. The bad side was that the farmers had not arranged for their escorts to meet up beforehand, which mean he would be stuck with these greens for the entirety of the job.

One thing was for sure, it was going to be a long few days out here.

The first farmer walked up to Cad Bane and nodded towards the nine transports behind him.

"We're ready to leave."

Bane walked over to the first heavy transport, thinking over the situation.

"Better arrange all the transports in single file. Put the families in the middle." He turned back to the first farmer who had spoken. "You got any weapons of your own?"

"Myself and two other men have blaster rifles, but that's it."

With that, Bane returned to the greens. The Human girl with the unlit cigar in her mouth leaned on one hip and hung an oversized pistol at her side. Bane did not think it unlikely that she had never fired it before, meaning this was her first day out on the job. His day was growing longer by the second.

"Listen up," said Bane. He pointed at the two Humans. "You two in the middle. The Togrutan and I will go in front. We'll have to stop every seven hours to scout ahead."

"Hold up one damn minute. Who gave you the right to call all the shots?" the Human boy demanded.

At this point, he didn't care how many Tuskens might be out there. He just hoped one of them had good enough aim to nail one of these greens so Bane wouldn't have to do it himself.

"Hate to break it to you, youngling, but I have a hell of a lot more experience than you. If you don't want to get killed, you'd better do what I say. Any more questions?"

"Yeah, shouldn't we know each other's names?" the Human girl chimed in.

The Human boy pointed to the other two, stating all three of their names as he did so.

"So what do you go by, old breed?" the girl asked.

Bane scowled slightly with disappointment as he walked past them back to the farmers. He had hoped they would recognize him at least. The fact that they didn't made him wonder if these greens really had any idea what they were getting themselves into. By then all the transports were in single file and ready to depart. Bane climbed on his speeder which he took to the front of the column. The others followed behind, getting into position. When he gave the lead transport the signal, they began moving deeper into the canyons, which towered on either side.

Roughly two hours passed before he heard one of the greens approaching him from behind. It was the Togrutan boy, who as Bane now recalled, had not said anything since Bane arrived.

"Hey, old breed. You never told us your name."

Bane pretended he hadn't heard him. He wasn't in the mood for many things, and one of those things would always be small talk with a green.

"Never mind, you don't have to tell me," the Togrutan said when he understood Bane was not going to answer. "My partners don't know who you are, but I already do."

"Good for you," he muttered.

"I was just wondering, Mr. Bane, if you think we might run into Imperials."

"Imperials have no damn business out here."

"But what about what happened last year? When—"

"That was in Bestine, not here." Bane looked away and up ahead again. "Relax, kid. They wouldn't bother coming out here."

The incident in question—the unofficial name for it was the Bestine Incursion—took place about one standard year ago, and although these locals' only care for the Tatooine capital was the trading and goods, it was an event they still talked about to the day. Compared to other similar incidents occurring around the galaxy that one might hear about from a traveling party or group of smugglers, the Bestine Incursion was almost nothing. To these folks, it was the biggest news since the long-running Boonta Eve Classic champion stayed a night at the local hotel.

Bestine Incursion. At the crack of dawn one late harvest morning, two Imperial cruisers landed in the city and eight companies of stormtroopers ran out into the streets. Their orders came straight from The Imperial Board of Culture. As the story went, the actual order was initiated because of a report that the capital city of Tatooine was plagued with 1) an overload of popular culture media banned by the Board, and 2) a growing population of non-Humans who were becoming active in local government affairs. These two acts of offense contradicted the new laws set in place by the Empire, one of which was to ban any anti-Imperial works, and the other was not allowing non-Humans to become politically active.

But in light of what the four Imperial companies did in Bestine, it didn't matter what the hell the Board's orders had been.

What began as a few simple arrests and destroying some books became an unstoppable bloodbath. Any businesses owned by non-Humans were destroyed, looted, and then burned. Instead of arresting one or two non-Human politicians, they and their families were publicly executed in the city square. Non-Human neighborhoods were also raided by the stormtroopers, many shot on sight or executed for trying to resist. By sunset on the same day, almost one-fourth of the population of non-Humans in the capital had been killed, wounded, arrested, or were shipped off to the spice mines of Kessel.

The story of what happened in Bestine spread like wildfire throughout the Outer Rim, whispered between traders and smugglers and gamblers. It did not take long to reach Bane and Takira and their hidden little house.

Bane never would have described himself as _paranoid _or _overly concerned_. Neither would he admit that once he heard about what happened in Bestine, he stayed up every night for four nights sitting on the porch with his rifle and a pair of macrobinoculars in his lap, eyes peeled for any of those white helmets to appear. Even weeks after hearing about the Bestine Incursion, Bane could hardly sleep and never let Takira out of his sight when she was outside. And Bane didn't think that underlying fear was ever going to go away as long as the Empire's ideas of Humanocentrism stuck around.

The Togrutan boy quickly pulled him out of his thoughts.

"No offense, Mr. Bane, but I just figure that the Imperials don't plan on stopping just with Bestine. Next they might do the same in one of the spaceports. And after that, it's the small farming communities all around."

Bane shrugged to try to show the kid he wasn't worried.

"They'd waste more time and resources than they'd make, if you want my opinion. They only profit from going to the big spaceports and capitals, and that's it," said Bane. "Farther away from civilization you are, the better off you'll be. Understand?"

"Sure do, Mr. Bane. I just figured my partners wouldn't give me a straight answer. They're Humans. Why would they care about a thing like that?

"I won't argue with you on that one."

"Still, the Empire did take over a whole system and that one wasn't much bigger or more populated than Tatooine."

The boy's comment made Bane hesitate. He began to contemplate just which occurrence the green could be referring to. Nothing from the latest headlines stuck out in his memory. Then again, Bane liked to steer clear of mainstream news since it just put another train of thought in his mind he didn't need in there.

"Which system you talking about?" he finally asked.

"Oh, I was talking about the Phatrong system."

"Phatrong, huh? The Imperials took over the whole system?" _Wait a minute, _Bane thought. _That isn't Embo's home planet, is it? _Phatrong. Kyuzo. The names felt strongly connected. He had heard them used together before. It had to be. If nothing else, a large percentage of Embo's species inhabited the planet.

"I'm a bit surprised you didn't hear about it," the green said quietly. "I think it happened about three years ago. The Imperials took the capital of Phatrong completely by surprise. Phatrong had a small army to defend itself, but they couldn't stand up to the Imperials. The army was wiped out within a matter of weeks. Anyone who fought back was killed, too. I think that by the end of it, anyone still alive on Phatrong was taken back to the Inner Rim systems to work in the mines. Even the smallest villages were burned down to nothing. I heard about it from some smugglers who used to do trade in the capital. So I was just wondering, if the Imperials could do it to Phatrong, what would stop them from doing it here?"

Bane's mind was elsewhere. Now he had some very, _very_ interesting information regarding Embo's home planet. Information which might lead to further discovering Embo's true motives behind his recent actions.

He glanced down at the Togrutan boy.

"What the fuck brought a youngling like you out here, anyway?" Bane asked.

The Togrutan glared up at him like the question had been a personal offense.

"What do you think, Mr. Bane? The Empire. _ That's_ what led me here. You look at me like I don't know what the Empire is like, but I do. So did my family, before they were killed. In front of me."

"Gee, that's too bad." Bane pouted. "So you have nothing left to lose, you lost everything, and now you're sad and all alone."

"Pretty much." The Togrutan wiped his nose with a scowl.

Bane swung his rifle over his shoulders, resting his hand against the barrel.

"Then get over it and grow the fuck up. Just because you're sad doesn't mean anyone is going to throw free stuff at you. Nobody cares what the Empire did to you. I sure don't." As the Togrutan stared at him in horror, Bane grinned wickedly. "Here's a word of advice. The next time someone asks about your sob story, don't grant them the privilege of hearing it. Just tell them to go fuck themselves. It's none of their business. They won't be sad if you tell them the truth, in fact, they might think it's just cute. We _all_ know what the Empire is like. Understand?"

The Togrutan looked away, still wiping his nose.

"No, Mr, Bane, _not_ everyone knows." His voice was dark and his eyes were coals as he looked over his shoulder at the two Human greens not far behind. Then he looked up at Bane.

"You know what I meant by 'we'."

"I can't help it. I hate Humans."

Bane glanced down at him with a perplexed expression.

"Careful where you say that. Even in Mos Gamos, you'd most likely be shot."

"Do you think I care about that anymore?" the Togrutan hissed. "I hate them. I fucking hate Humans. I hate all of them. They only know what the Empire is like if they go right up against it and try to resist. But _us_? People like you and me? _Non-Humans_? We don't have a choice. They can burn our homes and rape us and sell us and call it a service to the Empire."

Bane slowed his pace a bit listening as the boy was silently tearing up and gnashing his teeth. He found this turn of events in the conversation to be interesting, to say the least.

"I've never been too fond of the general population of Humans, either. With some exceptions, of course."

"No, Mr. Bane. I hate every single one of the Humans. I wish they would all be tied to stakes and fucking burned to death. Every last one of them. They treat us like we're animals." He wiped his nose again. "I'd do it if I could. I'd kill all of the Humans for what they've done to us."

"Keep dreaming, kid," Bane muttered. He noticed the Togrutan still staring up at him, then he shrugged his shoulders. "Look. If you're thinking you want to take out those two Humans tagging along with us, I don't want to know about it. Just, wait until after dark so we can blame it on the Tuskens."

The boy grinned ear to ear. Bane didn't return it. His thoughts lingered on Phatrong.

* * *

Takira was all but beside herself. She had had the house to herself for less than an hour and she was already getting her things ready for a trip back into town. Since it was not her shift at the mercantile today, Takira did not have to pack up her medicine and herbal supplies. All the same, she brought along a pouch with some small samples since one could never go wrong with samples. Finally before climbing into her landspeeder, she grabbed her macrobinoculars and roughly sixty credits worth in chips, just to be safe.

In the logbook, in which she and Cad put entries of where they were gone and for how long, she put her intention of going into town as an errand run. She would have hated admitting it, but Takira did not feel bothered by the fact that she was implicitly telling Cad an outright lie. But she had to do it. She had to find the Kyuzo again, and go back to the warehouse to talk to them some more.

Takira set her belongings in the landspeeder and started the engine, backing it out of the garage. She covered her head with a hood to protect it from the morning sunlight. Sleeping on the prospect of looking for the Kyuzo by herself had been a good idea, Takira thought. Even waiting two nights in a row to see if she still felt she should do it did not alter or deaden her intuitions.

Always, of course, the voice of what Cad would be saying if he could see her now spoke clearly. She remembered the years of instruction he provided her, teaching her all kinds of practical skills and self-defense techniques until she had them down perfectly, and then taking her through practice drills until she could do all of them without even thinking about it. Right now, the voice was speaking out of what Cad might define as _plain old common sense._

"Tee, you know better than to go off looking for someone as dangerous as that guy, and what business do you have messing with a bunch of farm kids who want to stir up trouble against the Imperials? Are you out of your mind?"

_Well, Cad, I got news for you even you don't know about. I'm not ten years old anymore. I can handle myself, just like you taught me to, _Takira thought back.

In all seriousness, it didn't make sense for one to learn how to protect yourself and survive out there, only to never apply what you had learned. Why sharpen a blade you were never going to cut with? It just didn't make any sense.

The closer Takira got to town on the hour-long drive there, the more her thoughts wandered. What would she do if it turned out the rebels did not need her help in their plan after all? What was she going to say to the Kyuzo when she found him? For that matter, _how_ was she going to find him?

And yet, by the time the landspeeder was pulling into town, Takira felt she had a good idea of where to start. It occurred to her that the Kyuzo might be meeting up with the group in the warehouse. Since he had come all this way out here to talk about joining up with a rebellion, it made sense that he would be looking for locals to go with him. Shutting away the inward voices telling her how much of an idiot she was, Takira made her way to the warehouse and she knocked three times on the door. The first face she saw when it opened was the Zabrak female.

"Is Alaric here?" Takira asked, remembering that the young man named Alaric had said to ask for him.

The woman's eyes lit up for a moment in realization. Takira thought that this woman looked more dead than alive, like she would welcome death with open arms when it came for her. The woman's mouth twitched with annoyance and her gaze hardened as she backed up to allow Takira in.

"I remember you. You're the girl who showed up late last week." Her voice was still like a sandstorm. She clenched her jaw. "My name's Sugi, by the way."

"Takira."

"He's right over there if you want to talk to him." As Takira began walking towards the side of the warehouse where she saw Alaric speaking to a couple others, the Zabrak woman named Sugi walked alongside her. Out of the corner of her eye Takira saw her flick out a knife and scrape something off the tip of her thumbnail. "So, _Takira_, what brought you out here?"

"Out here, you mean with you lot, or out here in this general area?"

"I don't care. Whichever one is more interesting."

Takira had long been prepared for this sort of question as to why she lived on Tatooine. She and Cad had gone over a brief story she should tell if she was ever approached on the subject. They came up with a plausible one with no plot holes and which required little explanation. Then she practiced telling it to Cad until she looked like she was telling the truth. Takira told the ten-second version with the same fluency as she had practiced on Cad, and luckily Sugi seemed satisfied enough when Takira had finished.

"So how about you? Anything interesting about how you got here?" Takira asked.

"Felucia. I settled there a few years after the war to find a more honest living. I lived in a small farming colony. They became my family. It was a nice place," said Sugi, "until the Empire burned it down to make room for a military training base, anyway. All the men in the village were lined against a wall and shot because they refused to stand down. The women and children were deported to hell knows where. I escaped with several others. I joined this group a couple years after that."

Takira looked at her, stunned. Sugi's story, simple enough, had made Takira feel terrible. She couldn't imagine losing her home and the only person she considered 'family', much less for the sake of an Imperial base. Or rather, she didn't want to imagine it.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't bring anyone or anything back. I've stopped crying about it." With that, Sugi caught Alaric's attention who made his way towards them. She looked over Takira's outfit and flashed the first smile Takira had seen on her.

Revenge, then. That was the only reason Takira could see a woman like this would join up with a group that planned to fight back the Imperials. She was here for revenge. Of course, there were probably much worse reasons than that.

As Sugi left to return to her post at the door, Alaric approached Takira with a thumb jabbed backwards at a table towards the front, where Takira saw disassembled weapons as well as a hologram of a map.

"It looks like you came back after all," he said. "Come on over here and we'll show you what we already got."

"Alaric, if you don't mind me asking a question...have you seen a Kyuzo around here lately?"

"A Kyuzo? No, not that I recall. Should I let you know if I do?"

Takira nodded and looked up at the hologram. If she was going to let on that she was looking for a Kyuzo, she had to be stealthy about it, since Embo most likely didn't want everyone knowing that he was here. That might not end well.

"An old friend I've been looking for, so I thought it couldn't hurt to ask. I'm sure I'll find him all right on my own."

"Well...all right, then," Alaric said slowly. He pointed to the hologram, revealing it to be a map of the town. "Right here you can see what this is a map of. We have our establishment here—" he pointed to the warehouse, "—and down three blocks we have our backup supplies for the attack. The Imperials will be coming back on the main road where all the spices and slaves are traded, which cuts right through downtown. Our plan is to cut them off at the first intersection, divide them up, and use four squads to distract them while another squad goes in and takes out their transports." As he explained the plan, holographic figures on the map acted out the plan according to their side, rank, and position.

"Looks like the plan counts on the Imperials not having any backup."

Alaric stayed short of a scoff or a chuckle, but instead shook his head once.

"Naw. The Imperials don't bother sending out backup to a place this scarcely populated. It's just farmers and traders out here. They're not expecting much resistance from us." He turned to Takira. "Now, if you want a place in one of those squads, first you'll have to show me or Dimitre what you can do. Can you handle a blaster rifle or a pistol?"

"Of course I can! What the hell do you take me for?"

Alaric faced her head-on with his hands in his pants pockets. The way he was looking at her, Takira wanted to take a step back, but she knew better.

"I'm not talking about if you can shoot or not," said Alaric. I'm talking about if you could kill a stormtrooper if you had to."

Takira hesitated, for she had heard somebody else's voice in that statement. It churned her stomach.

Apparently for Alaric, the hesitation was long enough. He sighed and leaned back against the table, glancing away as if the subject of Takira bored him.

"That's what I thought. I didn't think of you as the type," he said.

"Listen, just because I don't like killing doesn't mean I can't handle myself. Get a grip! Besides, I haven't told you that I'm good with medical treatment. I make medicines of my own, too."

"Oh, I see," Alaric said quietly, appearing slightly surprised. "Well, if that's your strength, I think you could be some help. We're expecting, at the least, fifteen percent casualties on our side, so we could use a place to use as a temporary hospital for our wounded. If you would prefer helping with that."

"Sure, I could. Get me a few helpers and some supplies and that will be plenty."

For the first time, Alaric showed the slightest hint of a smile. As for Takira, excitement was swelling in her chest. She had found her place to help the local rebels. She was going to be a part of it.

Now the only trick would be keeping her participation a secret from Cad. But what with how often he was gone these days, how hard could it be?

* * *

Almost one standard week later, Cad returned to the house. It was late in the evening and Takira lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, on which she had pinned small plastic gems and glass shards that reflected her lamp so that they appeared to be like stars. The illusion worked better in her earlier years, though, and now it just felt childish.

Takira paid attention to the way Cad shuffled inside, shut the door, and began putting away his weapons. By the time Cad had gone into his room to clean up, Tee already figured out that his work had been long and exhausting, and perhaps a little more than unsatisfactory. He would have no way of knowing that she had been visiting town every day, using the money she had saved away on fuel so he would not notice the chance, and discussing the plan with the rebels on all of those days as well.

A few minutes passed quietly. Perhaps he was retiring early to get some extra rest. Takira jumped when she heard his footsteps approaching her bed. She waited for him to pull back the curtain. Oddly, he didn't.

"I have to make an errand in Bestine," he said quietly. "It's a long ways, so I'm leaving tonight. If you want to stay here, that's all right."

"How long will you be gone?" Takira asked, still staring at the ceiling.

"Two days. Get there tomorrow morning and come back the following day."

"I'll come with. I like Bestine. So, why are we going there?"

"Oh, it's...nothing much. We're leaving in three hours, so get some sleep."

She heard no sign of suspicion in his tone, which she would have if had he known where she was that afternoon. Instead, he simply sounded tired.

"Cad, I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Do you know where the Kyuzo went?"

"No, I don't," he answered without hesitation. In return, Takira paused before asking the next question that was on her mind.

"If you did know, you wouldn't tell me, would you?"

"I don't know where he is. That's the end of it."

_That's exactly what I thought you would say, _Takira thought as he walked away. _Everybody else says you were a good liar in your prime, but you can't lie to me worth shit._

* * *

_"Never call attention to yourself."_

_- from the precepts of Jango Fett's Bounty Hunter code_

* * *

___Inner Rim Territories - Vaklin system - Vaklin Zenith Imperial Command Center_

_._

A dark, grave voice broke the silence in the pale room. Boba Fett watched an Imperial officer enter through the doorway. His hollow cheekbones, graying features, and cold gaze seemed familiar, although no names entered Boba's head immediately upon seeing the man.

"Now that you are all here, we are to go over the final details of your contract," the man said as he walked in. Now he stood in front of them roughly three feet away from Boba. The officer's hands were clasped behind his back.

Boba did not let his gaze wander throughout the room. Instead, he knew that seeing how this was his first day working under the contract with the Empire, he had to give them a good impression, and he looked the officer in the eye with distant respect and quiet confidence. It was a technique of eye contact he had practiced over the years, and figured he would become a master at before long.

"The screening, I assume, was effective in narrowing the group of you down to only those with the proper qualifications to cooperate under the contract," the man added.

Screening indeed. It almost made one wish for the old days of the Republic, but in Boba's case, such days had not been so old, and few of them were good. Still, the Empire knew how to use the process of elimination when hiring bounty hunters. Back when Boba used to find work from regular crime syndicates, they required no such screening. You had your record, you took the job, you got your reward and everyone is happy. A contract under the Empire, however, turned out to be another matter entirely.

As it went, the Empire was not too keen on the idea of hiring anyone with a history of switching sides, whether their reasons varied from payment to mere sentiment. Nor did the Empire want to deal with anyone who, suffice it to say, _had a score to settle_, or worse, had someone who wanted to settle a score with them. Needless to say, owing money or laser bolts all over the galaxy complicated the job, and the Empire disliked any complications. No wonder Boba rarely saw the older guys, or, the _old breed_, working these kind of jobs.

So, before any contract under an Imperial commander could be official, a mandatory 'screening' took place.

Standing on either side or behind Boba, the other recruits were also mentally nursing their wounds and shaking off the pain. None of them had stricken Boba as that impressive. They were all from various corners from the galaxy—from the Tion Cluster to Mandalore Space to the Deep Core—and seemed to vary even more in experience and culture. Some, as Boba learned, were experts in ion bombs. Others were former slavers, or bodyguards, although over a third identified themselves as 'bounty hunter.' Even so, all of them had one thing in common: they were Human.

"As you all know," stated the officer, "the contract states you will each be assigned to a particular military base, which will serve as your rendezvous point for your efforts. Since we researched the locations where you each have the most experience and local knowledge, your assigned military base will coincide with said location. Thus, you will be assigned to a base located in an area you are very familiar with. You are required to filter out anti-Imperial activity in your area. According to your skills, you have each been assigned your own specific instructions. Once the area has been cleared, you are to report back so we may either revoke or renew the contract. Is this much clear?"

The recruits, including Boba, nodded in agreement.

"Good. Now, there are a few rules we have established for the contract so as to eliminate any unnecessary complications. First, you are allowed to use whatever means necessary to clear anti-Imperial activity, and the soldiers under your command will follow your orders. Your job is to use your knowledge of the area, and your mercenary status, to obtain information about any anti-Imperial activity, report it back to base, and clear the activity.

However, you are not permitted to punish by execution any sentient being _unless_ they have been found guilty of treason at a trial by appointed judge."

Boba could not hold back the smirk concealed beneath his helmet. So until his contract with the commander was finished, he could not kill anyone unless he could get them convicted at a trial. He could already think up several loopholes for the predicament. Still, it would diminish the efforts of anyone in the room prone to trigger-happy means of getting the job done. Which was perfectly fine with Boba.

"You will receive your specific instructions once you arrive at your base. Before you depart, are there any questions?"

Of course, no one dared say a word. With that, the officer nodded and exited the same way he arrived. Boba filled his lungs.

This was it. His first contract with someone who worked for the Empire. His first opportunity to gain solid reputation as a bounty hunter with pro-Imperial sympathies. That was a trait increasingly rare and desired in these days. Although he normally forbid himself to mentally express sentiment on a situation, this was too much, and Boba heard this thoughts begin to wonder into the possible futures ahead of him.

What would he be like when the contract was over? Will he have made more friends or more enemies? What would it mean for any employment in the future? What would the Empire have made of him by the time they were through with the contract?

One could only ask, wait, and see.

* * *

_A/N: I don't like humanocentrism...I really, really don't. But I love writing about it because it is important to Star Wars history and more particularly the history of the Galactic Empire. Sadly, I know it will hit close to home for some people in light of historical events AND things happening today. All the more reason to write about it, in my opinion._

_And Sugi! Sugi is back! :) Originally her role was filled with an OC, but I missed Sugi too much and gave her the part instead. I'm very glad I did!_


	14. Bestine

_Chapter Fourteen: Bestine_

* * *

_ "I know what's right, I got just one life  
In a world that keeps on pushing me around  
But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down"_

_- Johnny Cash, "I Won't Back Down"_

* * *

The drive through the night took roughly ten hours. Still, despite the long work of getting the farmers across the Jundland Wastes, Cad Bane managed to stay awake by injecting himself with shots of caffeine. A habit he would probably do better without, but at least it was an improvement from deathsticks, which he had not touched in years.

Twenty-four hours ago, Bane and the other greens, along with the farmers they were helping across the canyons, had been ambushed by rogue sandpeople, Tuskens who had been exiled from their tribes and roamed as scavengers. They were more reckless than regular Tuskens and thus not as dangerous. Still, they managed to pick off the two Human greens and wounded one farmer. As Bane had guaranteed when he accepted the job, he got all of them from one side to the other alive and all supplies intact, save for a bit of collateral damage along the way. Because he finished the job sooner than expected, the farmers granted his request for extra payment. That meant the house's security system could stay active for another three months, their stock would be refilled, and he could put more credits away for a new landspeeder. Not bad for two greens.

Obviously, Takira already knew this wasn't just a simple trip to Bestine. Bane wouldn't waste fuel for an expendable errand, so it would only be a matter of time before Takira started trying to figure out what they were really doing there. At the least, she would be suspicious. But right now that was the least of Bane's concerns.

To begin with, he hadn't brought Takira to the capital since he heard about the Bestine Incursion. Even when it came to the smaller spaceports such as Mos Gamos, he still only brought her with once in a while just to keep her safe. The chances of something remotely similar to the Incursion happening today was highly unlikely. And yet, odds and statistics just didn't seem to calm Cad Bane down as much as they used to.

Secondly, there was the case of Embo, who Bane would bet his hat was in Bestine at right this moment.

Daylight was coming up as Bane parked the landspeeder in the usual lot. He pulled on a poncho and climbed out, handing Takira her poncho as well. His was fade-in color, torn and patched together here and there over the years, while Takira's poncho with the deep turquoise with the gold patterns was still in mint condition.

Bane counted thirty seconds between when they parked to when Takira popped the question he had been expecting.

"So, when are you going to tell me what we're doing here?"

"I told you, it's nothing much. I just...have a brief meeting with a client to clear a few things up. That's all." At least there was a little truth to that one.

"That's real specific. Thanks for clarifying. Am I allowed to tag along or is this client still not allowed to know that I exist?"

Bane bit his tongue. He barely slept a wink before they left, and driving ten hours straight after a heavy week had taken it out on him.

"You can do whatever you want. Just be back at the speeder by mid-afternoon." He turned around and met her eyes so she knew to pay attention. "You remember what I told you about—"

"Of course I remember what you told me about going out by myself. Don't look at my pockets, don't make eye contact with strangers, don't take the back alleys, use the emergency beacon on the comlink if I get into trouble...you've only told me a million times."

"All right. Just—"

"Just be careful, be back at the speeder by mid-afternoon. I'm not an idiot!"

He waited until she had shuffled past him and crossed the street to the opposite side before he turned back to watch her go.

_I wonder what got her so upset all of a sudden. Can't think of anything that might have set her off._

He couldn't bother himself with worrying about Takira's 'attitude' phase. Right now, he had to find Embo and get down to the bottom of what was really going on.

Within forty minutes, Bane had made his way to his destination. Granted, the closer the got to it the longer it took him what with all the folks that liked to gather around the area. Overhead, the large building towered. Its roof consisted only of a ring of metal plates, and its outer structure was supported by large beams and brick walls upon which holoimages flashed. As Bane glanced up, the holoimages changed to show a new set of faces. All of them looked the same to him. From inside, Bane could hear a large crowd swarming.

Panwa Arena.

Ironically, the Huttese word _Panwa _translated to 'enjoy.' Bane did not think he would describe his last experience at Panwa Arean as 'enjoyable' in the least bit. That experience had consisted of little more than being pummeled into the ground by the best bounty hunter of that time, Jango Fett. Still, those were different days and maybe if he went back, the name for the arena would actually live up to itself a little bit, but he had his doubts. Bane did not have to go in to know what the crowd was getting so worked up about.

In Panwa Arena, fighters of any occupation or background – ex-soldiers, assassins, bodyguards, smugglers, pirates, and bounty hunters – ventured out into an arena surrounded by a crowd of over eighty-thousand to test their skills and strength. The most popular form of test was up against another fighter, although some preferred to go against holoimages that simulated attacks, and still others dared to battle wild animals. What made a place like Panwa Arena all the more interesting was its functionality as both a violent entertainment for the masses, and an opportunity for clients to choose who to hire for work based on watching them in the arena. The majority just came for the show, but there was always the chance that beating one's opponent in the arena might score a well-paying job in the near future.

These days, however, Bane was not about to go back in that arena anytime soon. Not in his physical condition, anyway. If his bad knee and the growing difficulty in breathing were enough, it also took him days to regain his strength from work that, several years ago, he could do nonstop without any breaks. He was on too many painkillers and caffeine doses to trust himself to hold together in Panwa Arena. He would gladly save that for all the greens who were desperate to show off and get themselves torn to pieces so the crowd could have a bloody lucky day.

But Bane wasn't here for his own sake. Panwa Arena and any similar place of entertainment in the galaxy was a hangout for all the contestants, which meant a lot of gossip, business talk, and interesting tidbits of information on any topic could be picked up by anyone.

This also meant that if Embo truly was serious about recruiting mercenaries to help him train the new 'rebels', his first stop would be Panwa Arena. After all, it was the only place in the Outer Rim where one could find so many mercenaries in one area who, besides two or three, generally weren't trying to kill each other. There was no doubt in Bane's mind. Assuming everything Embo told him was true, he would find Embo there.

Bane had spent some time planning what he wanted to say to Embo when he found him. Naturally he couldn't have told Takira about his real intentions for coming to Bestine. She had already heard enough bullshit talk on rebellion out of that guy's mouth already. Not to mention it had been nine goddamn years. Nine years, and then Embo shows up with no warning and leaving less than two hours later. He wouldn't go to all that trouble just to give up so easily, and Bane had no intentions of sitting around waiting for Embo to come back. Instead, Bane was going to go to him and get the whole matter cleared up.

It also didn't help circumstances that Embo was the only person who knew where Takira lived...information that could never,_ ever _get into the wrong hands.

Above all, he had to keep his wits about him. Supposing Embo had contacted others about joining the rebel cause, there could be a considerable group of them in Bestine. The Imperial forces had stooped to far worse in the past than just eliminating a few rebels and any other possible suspects. Thus, as soon as he noticed something suspicious, it was important that he got both Takira and himself away from the scene so the Imperials would not suspect them.

Bane proceeded to make his way through the entrance gate to the arena. Inside, a large cantina and other gates leading to sections of the indoor seating housed a large assessment of species. Immediately, he noticed a group of greens keeping to themselves in one corner. Doing tricks with knives and pistols and wrist gauntlets and other such. In the other corner, Bane recognized a familiar face or two, whom he would have considered old allies but to everyone else they were the 'old breed.' Everyone else was scattered depending on their interest or occupation, while a screen on the back wall captured the happenings in the arena. At the moment, a Weequay was going up against two anoobas and was losing a lot of blood.

Bane looked away, eyes peeled for the familiar shield-hat or the amber eyes of the Kyuzo. Somewhere here, he knew, he would find Embo.

* * *

_"The bounty hunter is free of attachments."_

_- from the precepts of Jango Fett's Bounty Hunter code_

_._

In the corner of the cantina, Boba Fett was watching the battle on the holoscreen. He grimaced behind his helmet as he propped his feet up on the table and crossed his arms. Instead of feeling a twinge of sympathy for the Weequay whose death was now being cheered on by the thousands of spectators, he wondered whose idea it was to let the poor excuse for a hunter compete in Panwa Arena in the first place.

Boba had been given roughly two standard months to stick around the most populated spaceports on the Tatooine system, told to search out any rebel activity and report it to the Imperial company under his command. It sounded all high and mighty, but up until today, it consisted of mostly just hanging around public places and talking to the locals, and sometimes brushing up with an old acquaintance. The dull part of the contract, was how he viewed it.

The young bounty hunter took care glancing over the others gathered in the indoor vicinity. Anyone could tell that the older mercenaries and spectators gathered by themselves, and the younger ones only spoke to each other. It had been like that for some time in these fields of occupation, at least, ever since the end of the war. After that, a division arose in the bounty hunting field between hunters who survived the war and hunters who came on the scene after the war was over. The former, the _old breed_, liked to view the latter, _greens_, as naïve, incompetent, and having overestimated themselves. The greens, meanwhile, thought the old breed was selfish, stuck-up, and rigid in their thinking and behavior. Neither was wrong, of course.

Suddenly, Boba Fett spotted a familiar face in the crowd. He looked again just to be certain his first intuition had been correct.

_Well, I'll be goddamned. Is that really him? _he wondered. _Finally showing his face again after almost seven years of practically disappearing?_

It _had_ to be him. The hat gave his identity away, naturally.

Seven years had taken its toll, but the familiar figure was undoubtedly Cad Bane.

Boba was prompted with an instant string of questions. Why would Bane show up _now_, after seven years? Why to a place like Panwa Arena? Was he looking for work or was he on his own spare time?

In spite of himself, Boba struggled to maintain his calm composure. Quickly, he finished his shot of whiskey to ease his nerves, but even that did not seem to help. His knuckles were tingling, his whole body on edge and poised to do what Boba had wanted to do for a long time. In the back of his mind, Boba knew it would be nothing short of a pleasure to kill his old enemy, his old rival. Depending on how he went about doing it, Boba figured he could get the job done quickly without any setbacks to his current line of work. For example, who was to say Boba couldn't challenge Bane to a duel in Panwa Arena and kill him there? It seemed oddly fitting.

It felt like years now that Boba had wished to kill Cad Bane by his own hand. If someone were to prompt Boba to list off the names of those he had killed by means of strengthening his reputation as a bounty hunter, Boba would not hesitate. He remembered them all. Hunters who got in his way, questioned his effectiveness and leadership, publicly insulted him. All of them got what they deserved. Slowly, throughout the galaxy, Boba Fett had become known as the bounty hunter who did not waste time with idle threats, but simply did what he had to in order to get the job done. If you were between Boba Fett and his reward, you were going to be destroyed…period. Needless to say, adding the death of Bane to his resume would make for a pleasant reputation, thought Boba. In the long run, it could turn out to be most beneficial to his career.

Just one problem.

The _contract_. The contract that perfectly spelled out that as long as Boba was working for the Empire, he could not kill anyone who had not been found guilty of treason.

Boba had foreseen some of the requirements in the contract becoming a bit of a crutch to him as a bounty hunter. But of course, he had not been expecting his old enemy to show up out of nowhere like this. What's more, he couldn't exactly request a change in the contract...what would that make him look like? Cheap, that's what...and he came expensive. He had to show so with his behavior.

He watched Cad Bane make his way through the room. Boba's curiosity tickled his fingertips.

_It's too risky. If I was caught killing him, not only would they revoke the contract, but the Empire would almost certainly never hire me again. That's not a good reputation to have at a time like this, when people are already talking about another uprising. I got my slate all clean...I can't go dirtying it now._

He couldn't do it. Even though the opportunity had fallen right into his lap, he couldn't take the risk. He would be putting his entire reputation at stake otherwise. A glare concealed beneath the helmet, Boba watched his old enemy turn away and start to leave. There the opportunity was walking right out with him.

_Unless..._

_...there is a way I can still do it._

All he had to do was find a way to accuse, try, and convict Bane of treason against the Empire. Then, under the contract, Boba would have every right to put him to death.

Of course, the chances of actually uncovering evidence he could use against Bane would be a whole other matter. If there was even the possibility that Bane had done any sort of anti-Imperial work. However, Boba Fett was no stranger to trapping someone by using loopholes, puffery of evidence, and outdated information. Doing such things over and over again on the job made it child's play after enough of it. Besides, Bane was also a non-Human. That fact alone worked in Boba's favor. Nowadays, pretty much anything could land a fellow in court and see him executed by the Empire.

Would it be difficult? Of course. But possible? Yes.

_If I can find something to put up against Bane, I can still kill him while I'm under the contract._

Boba Fett rose from his seat, and, with his eyes fixed on the back of the shadow wearing the wide-brimmed hat, followed Bane outside. The chaos surrounding the Panwa Arena successfully concealed Boba's identity, and he maintained a safe distance between the two of them.

Fortunately, Boba could not have been reunited with him at a better time. Perhaps this trip to Tatooine, which Boba had originally thought would be horribly dull, could prove to be most interesting.

* * *

After an hour of searching in all the likely places, Bane found no trace of Embo. He finally chose to use a last resort, and approached one of the bartenders. Bane told the bartender he was looking for someone and described Embo's appearance. The bartender admitted he had seen a Kyuzo hunter with a shield-hat pass through the previous day, and Bane promptly left as quickly as he had come.

He had been right...Embo _was_ there. Looking for more mercenaries interested in rebellion, Bane could only assume. Now the only trick would be following a trail that would lead to Embo's current location.

Bane began cursing in Durese, his native tongue, as the arena faded around the bend and he walked back to the speeder. He kicked a small piece of concrete lying on the sidewalk.

Things had been plenty fine before Embo showed up. Now everything was more complicated and Bane had to keep a lot on his mind so he could stay on top of matters.

Of course back during the war this wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe it was just that he was used to doing the more quiet, low-paying jobs in the Outer Rim, and the intense, high-stake days of the Clone Wars were nine years past now.

The more Bane thought about it, the more he realized how much he had changed since then. And not just because of Takira. He had begun turning down more work for the sake of her protection. Refusing to work for employers who he knew were not about to breed anything that would be good for someone of Takira's gender, species, and social status. Things he used to enjoy greatly just weren't _fun _anymore, and things that would not have gotten under his skin in the past had found a way there over the years. Perhaps getting away from the bounty hunter's world and focusing not just on his own survival had been the kick that began to change things. But in the end, did it really matter where the change had come from so long as it was not stopped?

A sound pulled him out of his thoughts. Immediately, Bane quickened his pace down the walk, through an alley for a shortcut, and to the destination as indicated on the comlink.

The emergency beacon was sounding off. Takira was in danger.

The corners of his vision turned red and he forgot to slow his run to ease the impact on his knee. All he could think about was saving Takira. He clenched his hands into fists as his breaths quickened.

When he arrived at the spot three blocks down, he saw Takira holding her waist. A male Weequay was following her. Instantly Bane noticed the spot on Takira's poncho where it had been torn as if someone reached out to grab her. The panic in her eyes was a clear indication that the man was about to try again without letting her get away.

In the back of his mind Bane was aware that the man let out a string of slurs in Takira's direction, but whether he said "Come on, you know you want to", or "What's the matter, sweetheart?" did not matter.

Bane whipped out his blaster, walking towards Takira and the Weequay. The Weequay spotted him and started to say something about how this wasn't Bane's business. Bane, eyes on the Weequay, said to Takira,

"Speeder. _Now_."

In less than a second Takira was out of the way between Bane and the Weequay, which prompted Bane to raise his weapon. He already knew where he wanted to shoot the man. The Weequay screamed as he was struck between the legs and he dropped to his knees letting out a string of vulgarities.

"Please come with me." Takira clutched her shoulder where the poncho was now torn. And to think for all these years it had not suffered one scratch until today. "You already shot him, let's just go!"

"Get to the speeder right now," Bane said coldly. "I'll be right behind you."

"Come with me! Please."

Bane felt her tug at his arm, but he yanked it away. Any thoughts regarding Embo, Panwa, Bestine and Tatooine and every inhabitant except the scum right in front of him left his mind completely, and all Bane could see was what _might _have happened if he was only ten seconds too late, what could have happened to Takira and how she would spend another nine years waking up screaming and crying and scratching her skin open because of it. All because this _filth_ in front of him couldn't control himself. Unable to hear Takira's pleas, Bane grabbed the Weequay and dragged him to the side of the street to a storage building, where he shouted at Takira to leave so she wouldn't have to see what he was about to do. Only when Takira was gone did Bane let himself lose control, all because he knew exactly what would have _happened_ had he been seconds too late.

When he had tired of beating the rotten fellow senseless, he finally opted to finish him off with a shot to the head. His only regret being that he did not have the time to sit around and wait for the Weequay to suffer any longer.

* * *

He remained unaware of the shadow, face concealed behind the Mandalorian green and red helmet. The figure was watching him from a back alleyway, taking note of every movement with great precision. And when Bane finished, young Boba Fett had already disappeared, deciding he had seen enough of the spectacle to get a good idea of what seven years had done to his old enemy.

* * *

As Bane walked back to the lot he pulled his gloves back on. He did not notice his difficulty in breathing until he had slowed down. Before arriving at the lot Bane stopped for a minute to catch his breath. When he did, he discovered a cold trembling in his bones. He had not felt that since the day he came home to find Tee stricken with fever. The sick, cold fear that he might lose her.

Back at the speeder, Takira held her torn poncho in her lap. She was staring ahead, eyes empty. She looked up at Bane as he climbed into the driver's seat. He was still a little out of breath, so he did not say or do anything. They sat that way in utter silence for nearly a full minute before Takira spoke up.

"Why did you have to do that?"

"Because you were—"

"I mean, why did you have to do that to him? You already shot him! He wasn't going to touch me again. Why couldn't you stop at shooting him? Why couldn't you just tell him off or something?"

_Does she have the slightest idea of what would have happened if I wasn't there?_

"Because he deserved it. That's all there is."

"No, that isn't all there is!" she snapped. "You went too far. You always go too far. You like it, don't you? Hurting people and going too far."

"I was only protecting you."

He glanced at Takira and was surprised to see that she had turned frightfully pale.

"No! You liked it. I know you always liked it."

"What the hell is up with you? You've been sore since last night."

"You want to know what's wrong? That you think killing people is fun! He didn't deserve what you did to him...you went too far."

Anger boiled up inside of him. Perhaps he was not so much angry at Takira for not understanding as he was angry at himself.

"That's enough, Tee."

"But—"

"I said, that's enough! Let's just go home."

_He _did _deserve it, Tee. You don't know how much. I would rather die than have been a few seconds too late to save you. I know what would have happened to you if he got what he wanted, because I've seen it, and I know how much he fucking deserved all of it._

_Or maybe I just lost control and couldn't stand the thought of being too late._

_And don't you dare say you ever felt sorry for him. Don't you dare._


End file.
